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My father taught me to put "stolen from" rather than
"This belongs to" on all the things I own
And ever since then, 87% of the things I ever lost
Found its way back to me

Some with a sharp laugh,
Others with a roll of the eyes,
An awkward shrug,
An apologetic grin

But people are different, of course

You can't put a tag on them that says
MINE
Especially when they don't even know that they're
YOURS

But in daydreams, I've claimed you, time and time again
I've brushed the hair out of your eyes
Branded your forehead with a kiss
That has a mark that spelled my name

In my mind, I've claimed you, time and time again
When our eyes meet across the room, across people
And our fingers brush as I hold your hand,
And our laughter echoes in the same space

I've saved all the pieces you hesitantly give.
Your tall-ness, 
Your dreams,
You very first memory

I've held them so close to my heart,
I've turned them over in my head so many times,
That they've left dents and bruises -
And I wear each one like a badge

...

But it doesn't matter now, does it?
Because even if I have you memorized
Like the answers to a test I would have gotten an A in
It doesn't matter, because someone got to you first

So I wonder why, I'm still hoping
That one day, you'll come back to me
With an awkward shrug, an apologetic grin
Finally, telling me, you belonged to me all along