I remember the laugh like an echo,

Haunting as I rushed for the door.

I pause, thought about the awkward pose

Moments before I gave her a rose.

In my mind she was the flame,

Convincing me to forget my name,

Maybe I’m still the same,

Stuck in a neurotic blame game.

I worshiped her like the sun,

Now I run from her barred gun,

Spouting hate at things I regret,

From her library that never forgets.

I’m an open book, stuck on a page,

Unable to mask my rage.

Crude in the way I find her rude,

When she sees through me, nude.