Used to Be

she lets her dark hair blow in the wind,
waiting on her porch under the stars,
believing he will follow through this time,
she will again be inside of those arms,

10 o clock turns midnight, and midnight into three,
beauty turns to chaos, in an attempt to be set free,

she waits underneath elegance, the moon dances in the night,
once again to break her wishes, let her down just one last time,

she goes inside head pounding, feeling lost and broken,
listening to the sound of her footsteps, as she lets herself be chosen,

The note says that she's sorry, once again she lay, underneath of the stars just weeping, hoping for the strength to stay,
but I can only take so much, she writes, in her final desperate plea, Black hair floats in tangles, from the body that used to be.