Why can't we go back to the days when everything I said was scripture and my touch was annointment?
Wen did I stop being your prophetess, your angel?
It seems my every syllable is argument and my gaze is sentencing.
Why do you treat me so?
Things were beautiful until you realized nothing you could say or do would change the way I felt about you.
Can't we be the old you and me, gazing intently into each other's eyes and not saying a word?
Did I do something wrong?
Should I go back and change?
What can I do to make things right?
If only your eyes would light on me again with the same spark and longing.
If only...
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