The Game (Part Four)

It's been a couple of days, my fingers tremble over the dial pad starting to notice the lines separating the numbers magnified like trenches and the call button is no man's land ,I start to zoom in on my hands reminiscing of the moments hers traced my body as she drew a map on back whilst her lips where GPS finding the right places, to clear my head I start pacing and wondering what I'd be saying if I searched and found the courage to call her,shit, why bother, I can imagine her shaq'd up with a baller, if I give her love she'll trade it in for whatever he bought her, so keep texting babygirl keep texting away, but I ain't giving you love when I know you'll throw it away,,

Like a boomerang the emotions I try detach myself from return every time I try throw them away, can't indentify what I'm feeling, catching feelings she says she miss me I know I miss her but if I give it a shot I know il miss her.. then it's just me with a broken heart,so if all men are dogs let a nigga  play his part,rather be a pitbull than lose my balance and fall into that pit boo, love, can't let it get too close,when you start calling her boo then these females turn ghost..    

Time to hit the club and leave my emotions at home, get drunk get stoned and bring another one home, type of beauty to wipe away memories of the goddess I met when I see her, No church in the wild,the  survivors are none believers..