You ask me, sarcastically,
if I’ll miss you when you go.
I answer you, seriously,
“More than you’ll ever know.”
I guess that I’m falling hard
for those sensitive brown eyes,
and the tingle that runs through me
when they look into mine.
But then she comes along
and you suddenly have so much to say,
and its her that you’re looking at
in that loving way.
I warned myself from the start
that you were bad news for me,
but then that charming smile
was all that I could see.
I watch her with disgust,
self-hatred kicking in,
as I imagine, if not for her,
what we could have been.
Behind that stupid girly laugh
and the thousands of OMG!s,
is there something in her brain
that I just can’t see?
So maybe jealousy is talking,
but shes just a pretty face.
She doesn’t smile when she hears your voice;
your touch doesn’t make her heart race.
I guess I fell for a player,
but I won’t be seeing you anymore.
Its not that you did anything,
its just..
I’m not a whore.