“Hey, you call me up again just to break me like a promise
So casually cruel in the name of being honest
I’m a crumpled up piece of paper lying here
‘Cause I remember it all, all, all too well.”
Comparing herself to a crumpled up piece of paper in this relationship is a brilliant metaphor. The words and memories are forever etched, but the object in which they reside will never quite return to the way it once was, no matter how much the subject or the object attempts to straighten it all out.
It’s funny how we can be that crumpled piece of paper, retaining everything that can’t be the same again, and yet simultaneously be a fresh page of a brand new notebook, feverishly adding to a story we hope never ends.