It’s near midnight and shadows traipse across my floor
Silence hangs heavy, disturbed only by the scratching of my pencil
I’m writing you a letter
Covered in, smothered by my confusion and pain
Every line feels like a stab to the stomach
You wouldn’t care anyway
Flick
The lighter is small and covered in a glossy, red resin
The warmth reaches my hand, comforting and calm
I’m lighting it on fire
Burning, smoking and finally, finally gone
The flames destroyed my words
You wouldn’t care anyway