Just short of the Moon

Think back sweetheart, to those awkward first glances
Whispering lust and taken last chances
Deciding if this was to be what romance is

Yes, there were cuts and some open sores,
Echoing insults and loud banging doors,
Then shattering glass adorning the floors,

But then, when the love, the REAL had begun,
Nothing could describe this love we'd become,
We were playing with hearts that we'd already won,

Both soaring so high in our own glass balloon,
Alas, we never quite made it to the moon,
Why did forever have to end so soon.