2016: Change From My Pockets

Paper, Scissors, Rock

I crinkle when you touch me, because the last person who did, tried to tear me apart.
And I tear up real easy, like how I sometimes randomly tear up in the middle of the night until you might hold me down.
I fly away with the wind, because I secretly want to get away from everything on the ground that threatens to step on me.
I am nothing but paper.

She cut me into pieces, because she wanted me to be a certain shape, and when I wasn't, she wanted to throw me away.
He sliced me into quarters, because I wanted to give him everything without even realizing he didn't care enough for it.
We're living in a world of scissors.

And I said you might hold me down, maybe when I accidentally rip myself
You'll lay with me until I stop scrunching myself up or cutting myself in
When the rest of the world wants ins on our game for two
Because, unlike me, those things outside don't hurt you
And you'll tell me that you'll be here no matter what, and your kind has survived for millions of years
Bring your heavy heart and drag me down
Like the rock in my life that you are.