Open Book 1

I don't know who lied to you, but I hate what I'm hearing straight out of your lips. The betraying dagger stuck deep within my vertebrae. Deliberately trying to fool me with the sweet incense of your unfaithful, caniving, witless sense that only a fool would consider truth. Hurting so deeply the cold slap of the closest one, whom I've trusted, loved before I even knew you by name.

I have opened the door and made a fool of myself, I'm locked out, ashamed of the press released of me.