There was a snow globe on my desk,
a picture of us,
but I looked a mess.
thought it was perfect.
Did you really think it was perfect?
We framed photographs of our love,
when we fight,
I'd pick them up,
and look at your face,
were you really happy with me anyway?
Now I see you on the street,
with your new friends,
I never got to meet,
and you just stare blankly at me.
Like I'm a ghost you never want to see.
But I know we have history.