If I had listened more

Then I would try to make a clever Shakespeare reference here

But I just used to roll my eyes

 

Whenever she would try

 To tell the tale of how she came to England from America

Her stomach full of butterflies

 

Voice of Olivier

Through soliloquy, seducing her far across the raging sea 

He spoke to her and her alone

 

The Bard was her first love

And she would meet her second in the library studying the first

3,000 miles away from home

 

Blinded by love she could not see

 That this production was not to be

Some wry and witty comedy

That she was starring in a tragedy

 

The first two broken hearts

Were of her forsaken mother and the father left behind

Abandoned back in old New York

 

The third heart was her own

Discarded once again and crying by herself another night

For the man she’d left them for

 

The man she hoped would change

That a ring would change everything was the tale that she would tell herself

To try to get to sleep at night

 

A writer by her trade

Published in every paper but always her own best audience

No need to fight when she could write 

 

Blinded by love she could not see

 That this production was not to be

Some wry and witty comedy

That she was starring in a tragedy

 

Hoped a baby might work?

And when the first one didn’t change him maybe another would?

Fuck two lives for the price of one

 

If you repeat a lie

Often enough it starts to feel like it might be something true

She said they were young and in love

 

Until she understood

That this would never be the fairytale she’d always thought it could be

And she returned across the sea

 

Her mom and dad long gone

Dead before they knew their little girl had finally found real love

Like I said – a tragedy

 

Blinded by love she could not see

 That this production was not to be

Some wry and witty comedy

That she was starring in a tragedy

 

They married on the beach

I gave her away, my sister maid of honour, mom in white

Her stomach full of butterflies