You said to me: "I'm in love with her."
Your eyes closed as you let out a sigh.
"I'm in love with a woman that's not you."

I broke to pieces.
My love another shattered vase in my museum.
A museum you'd abandoned.

How am I supposed to make you feel if you walk away?

You left me with endless knickknacks of memories and statues of passion.
I am your museum,
but you decided to build yourself another history.

"I'm in love with a woman that's not you."

And I'm in love with a dead man
whose only breath lies in dusty artifacts.