Pyromania...

Since I was a tiny tot, I love playing with fire. Fire to me is like a lover when its warmth coils all around me, teases my senses. I know it's wrong, but fire holds over me a morbid fascination. I need my fix every so often, when I can't control the urges any longer. I always chose my targets carefully, I don't want to hurt anyone. But tonight, as I strike the first match, I feel pulled into the hell I created and while I trash and scream, part of me wonders if I'll be reborn from my ashes.