he’s just not that into you… It’s been a week since I’ve heard from you Sweet words of love Of tenderness he’s just not that into you… While men in desirous parts of the world Beg my attentions, pour on me affections, Pull for my presence, promise me peace he’s just not that into you… I suffer long, lonely days alone, abused still By absence, by affliction, by the remnants Of maltreatment banished he’s just not that into you… And wonder, worry for your beauty Wonder, worry for my own… Reminded by your native enemies… he’s just not that into you… No sweet words come at last No fond words of affection No desire to be present… he’s just not that into you… But, even my white kitten comes, An angel's silent steps and passionate Love-bites to remind me of my own… he’s just not that into you… You’re just not that into me, are you? For, if you were, your words would spill; For, if you were, no harm could come… he’s just not that into you… for, if you were, you’d share words of peace, feather me with beauty… … just not that into me… … and I fade, my love burning like a pyre, my heart aching like a martyr, my mind begging for a champion, and I, abandoned of your touch bereft of love… he’s just not that into you… my eyes spill, slowly, yearning for the truth… he’s just not that into you… 'til my heart breaks as I read your words: “… I’m just not that into you”
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Oceans of Mine 