I could get up here and talk about that look in your eyes,
the one that still manages to give me butterflies.
I could talk about all the love I used to feel,
or about all of my dreams that I wish were real.
I could talk about you and me snuggling in bed,
or the kisses you would place on my head.
I could talk about how much we used to fight,
or about how I cried myself to sleep last night.
I could talk about the sweet nothings you would whisper in my ears,
or about how my cheeks are now stained with tears.
I could say a whole lot about how we came to an end,
but I’ll only talk about how you and I are just friends.