What shall I name it?
I must be crazy because what you do to me ain't called love
Like when you stare blankly at me when i'm telling you that even when you are in the room i'm alone- I pretend you are listening.
Like when you come home smelling like perfume and cheap liquor- I pretend you left an A list party filled with all these important people just to be with me.
Like when I get in your car and find a tube of lipstick that ain't mine- I tell myself that you were shopping around for me and forgot to return the sample.
Like when you call me and say "wassup baby" and I say "nothing" ...then you say "who is this?" like you dialed the wrong number- I think to myself, "he just dials my number automatically because he's always thinking of me"
No, what you do to myself ain't love; but what I do to myself ain't love either.
Copyright ©2006 Attica Lundy
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