He's the king of mixed signals..

Second guessing, constantly stressing, wondering if the green light was just you messing

With my emotions cos we know you’re good at that, good at leading me on like it’s an esoteric craft, good at working me up with that “i’m-different” crap,

good at feigning ignorance once you know i’m hooked, another landmark in your stupid conquest map.

Migraine, glistening eyes, ibuprofen pills mixed with salty tears. Playing mind-games where you’re always the winner, obviously you’ve never read “20-ways-to-win-her”.

 

Your subtlety is conveniently confusing, the moments of affection–painfully fleeting. You rarely initiate the texting, the once-in-a-blue-moon flirting, the late night skype calls where you’re constantly bullshitting..

One second we’re strangers and the next you wanna act fresh? Talking that smooth talk cos you know i’m helpless. You handle what we have so carelessly–i wish i cared less.

So dont do that cute thing where you act shy around me, stealing glances at me while i pretend i cant see; if you’re just gonna make me doubt everything i was starting to believe in, like did we find love or is this just a mirage.

“She’s the queen of mixed signals and I’m the king of lies

It’ll take a lifetime before we can get this right” – First Things First