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.