everywhere I look She's there- in your notebooks that lay on the floor, and the wall that used to have my paper full of rambles, also used to have things with Her on it.
everywhere I go, She's there- in my dreams (they always consist of you leaving me for Her and you not even caring about my feelings). on the internet all I see are poems and in those poems i wonder if they make you think of me like they make me think of you or if they make you think of Her like I know they did once before.
While i'm trying to run away from Her I wonder how you do it. Then I realize, you probably don't.
She's probably still haunting your dreams just like mine. and She's probably in all those poems and on all those pages.