lately i've become convinced
something's off with the world's design
because it keeps reminding me of you
and the fact that you're no longer mine.

finding pieces of you here and there
like debris scattered by the wind
maybe these pieces were once part of my heart,
each one a what-if, another could-have-been.

i'd find you in a line in a book
or in the road on my way home
hell - everything is a reminder of you
if i try and think of you alone.

but i guess it's not all that bad
remembering you in all these little ways
'cause this way, i can pretend you're back
even though you've gone away.

and you'll keep on coming back to me
like the lyrics of a song
but it looks like it'll take some time
before i can finally sing along.