coulda shoulda woulda.

All we were was potential.
The only thing we could ever be was conventional.
I know this now.
Now that I can see you.

Bitter was all that I could be
Once you stopped singing to me.
You all but shattered my rhyme scheme.

You used to touch me so gently,
as though discovering something delicate and wondrous.
I was a mystery.
Oh how history
Repeats itself.
(you wouldn't lift your voice on my behalf.)

When we were new and lovely
Fresh and whole and naive,
On the nights you loved me
It was so easy to believe
That our youth and beauty were enough.

when music was our lifeblood
when the ocean was our home,
the sand our bed.

"hell hath no fury like a woman scorned"

I stopped loving you
the night you wouldn't sing to me.