I should have written a love letter, I should have written a love song. I should have said how my heart broke of happiness, how it sang with a song of a knife on crystal glass and then broke.
I should have done more; I should have regretted less. I should have said what I thought, said what I saw, the fireworks shooting and the stars falling across the sky, the colours when I closed my eyes and was elsewhere.
I should have gloried in the weathers, the snow that was you, the rain that was you, the low dark clouds that would split and break and split away to show the blue light shining through.
I should have been less thoughtless, I should have done more and regretted less.
So I decided.