You are like the drawings in the margins and the corners of my page
The little odds and ends of pencil I halfheartedly erased

Your swirls and shapes around me that I am so distracted by
Right next to the flowers that I drew and the birds up in the sky

I erased your figure just to tell everyone that moving on is what I did
But yet you are still here around me, so who then can I kid?

I go back and retrace your memory, wanting some of it to be real
But hands alone cannot reach through space, so it is only paper that I feel