With every strike, a spark ignites,
a tiny sun against the night.
Match heads blaze, a brief fierce light,
a pyro’s touch that feels just right.
Wax drips slow, a scalding kiss,
upon my skin, can’t resist this bliss,
in the heat, I find my truth,
in the flare of youth,
no need for proof.
I dream in fire, bold and bright,
burning the pages of my spite.
Books I loathed turn to smoke,
in the flame, I’m finally woke.
Cigarettes glow, a fleeting gem,
ashes fall like burning stems,
into leaves so parched and keen,
I walk away from the unseen.
Flames whisper to me,
a siren song so wild and free,
in the crackle and the heat,
I find a world that’s more complete.
An arsonist’s love, untamed and raw,
in every spark, a perfect flaw,
watching the world dance with fire,
in each pyre, my dark desire.
Every ember tells a tale,
of liberation, fierce and frail.
Through the smoke, I see the sky,
in the burn, I feel I’ll fly.
As the flames climb higher tonight,
in the fire, I find my light,
just a match and a dream to chase,
in the ashes, I leave my trace.