What If?

(Erika Poling)

Have you ever been in love? Does it count if you only thought you were, but you never have been? Maybe it was a, what if?

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[Verse 1]

I’m sitting Indian style in an empty room
As if staring for a long while will make the dead buds bloom 
The ceilings are high and so I am I
I can hear the echoes come alive in my mind that’s a tomb

I’ll get to rest my head if and when 
I go to sleep on the floor, until I’m an awakened corpse 
As I listen to the sounds repeatedly haunt my life like they have before 
And I like to pretend that I don’t wake up to the bitterness I’ve hidden in sweet perfume 

[Chorus]

My heart’s a tombstone for a million feelings 
That I ended up killing to bury inside my soul too soon

I close doors like lids to coffins 
And I finally had to close the one that is
The one that was yours 
Because love’s a murderous chore 
Then why does it make me want you more? 

When something’s gone, you think about it often 
But there’s a difference between what is and what was
And I finally had to see what isn’t anymore 

It’s not you and me and it never can be… 
Again, ever again, we’re no more than 
a simple... what if?

[Verse 2]

Your name hangs off of a cliff that stops my good mood 
But life as we know it will resume 
You left me hanging, you always did 
When you never told me anything new
You didn’t, you didn’t, you never did 

I shouldn’t have assumed the lie
Was a love so true 
And it’s time to move.. on
When something’s gone, you think about it often 
I need to climb up from this something that is rock bottom 

[Bridge]

It is what it is, but.. what is it? 
What is.. What is.. 
It is what was. 
It’s not us, not us 
Either a love that was
Or a love that wasn’t
Either way it.. Isn’t
It isn’t us 

[Chorus]

My heart’s a tombstone for a million feelings 
That I ended up killing to bury in my soul too soon

I close doors like lids to coffins 
And I finally had to close the one that is
The one that was yours 
Because love’s a murderous chore 
Then why does it make me want you more? 

When something’s gone, you think about it often 
But there’s a difference between what is and what was
And I finally had to see what isn’t anymore 

It’s not you and me and it never can be… 
Again, ever again, we’re no more than 
a simple... what if?
© Erika Poling 2020