I've told myself not to
follow in mother's footsteps
and yet I picked you up like matches,
struck you across the book
until I could find your faults
as you burned, and burned out
I played with you like the lighter in my purse,
flicking you on until I got burned
and let go

The smoke has become a part of me,
the ugly epidermis that I can't shed
and looking in your eyes always
took me back to those glowing walls

I remind myself that
I was born of embers
and curiosity's breath
and though I long to be
passion ablaze,
I am still paper thin

I just can't stop playing with fire