Pyromaniac

I think I’m a pyromaniac;

Isn’t it comforting to know there’s a force out there that can

Destroy whole forests and buildings in one go?

I’d like to think so.

 

Did you know that burning copper pennies

Releases such a potent smell of copper

That it leaves your lungs burning

with a taste of metal

 for days after?

 

I think I’m a pyromaniac

Because of the source of heat

Fire provides,

And for a cold-natured person like me,

The heat is a much loved feeling-

No matter how much it hurts.

 

Did you know that rose petals

(especially dried ones)

Burn quickly

And leaves nothing behind

But its black tears and its

Gray dusty soul rising to heaven that you hope won’t get trapped

On its way up.

 

I think I’m a pyromaniac

Because of the power it holds

Within its flickering grasp

It can destroy everything in its path

That may hold it back from succeeding

It can consume everything it loves-

And I wish I could do the same.

 

Did you know that burning bobby pins

Leave a charcoal residue behind

That I can paint a thousand pictures

With just so I can

See.

 

I think I’m a pyromaniac

Because of its unpredictableness;

One wrong move,

And everything goes up in flames

And there’s not much the human race

Can do to stop the wild beast in its tracks

Once it has started;

It is both feared and adored.

It is both a handy tool,

And a firey weapon;

We rely on it just as much as it doesn’t;

And I wish I was that flame everyone relied on.

 

I think I’m a pyromaniac

Because fire holds

Every quality that I lack.