Somewhere between here and there we went from casual conversations to “U up?” texts past 2 am.
FUCK. How’d I get here?
No. I know exactly how I got here. It’s my fault. I let you hold my attention for as little effort as possible. I let you get to know me physically without really earning it, because I said you could and I threw caution to the wind. Fuckit.
I like to think I’m pretty realistic, maybe I’m just as naive as the next woman. I thought our debate about James Harden would lightweight impress you, maybe my former love for Incubus might surprise you. IDK, I honestly believe I’m different—set apart from the rest.
But, I don’t want to have to convince anyone, and maybe they're not looking for anything better than a quick hookup late at night.
I still know myself and my worth. I'm a million times better than any type of bootycall.
You either see it or you don’t. I guess I’m waiting for a dude with 20/20 vision.