I tore a page out of my notebook and I burned it.
I tore another page out and I burned that too.
I ripped out every single page and burned each one.
But it wasn't enough.

So I tore the pictures from my wall and watched the faces melt away.
But I could still feel the need for destruction in the pit of my stomach.

So I put a joint to my lips and watched the smoke escape from my mouth.
But not even that could soothe my pain.

So I ran.
And I ran.
And I ran.
And as I ran I set fire to all the trees and bushes.
And as I sat there in the chaos I had caused I realised,
Nothing could burn the memory of you out of my brain.