7.19.18 | "You seem so familiar."

And just like that, it was a blast from the past,
an invisible link formed between us.
Your name rang a bell,
the melody leading back to her, of course.
"She used to talk about you."
But what did she say?
Was I just another shitty ex in her burn book?
Like I always am.
Was I another bad memory desperately erased, leaving holes in the pages
from constant pressure?
Why do I still care what others think of me,
even after all this time,
long after my chapter in their novel has finished,
and the book is closed.
It's waiting to be burned.