Anger.
Red Hot.
Usually a little is fine on the side,
But mine came with a lot.
By mine, I mean my heart.
At first,
the flames were useful.
Little sparks,
Reminding me to be careful...
To beware the burns
Of passerbys
Or permanent residents.
Painful, but with purpose.
The beauty in the fire was lost with time,
Though.
They flames grew
They morphed
They changed
Into a reckless blaze of heat.
Enough to keep you warm at a distance,
But strong enough to crackle unsuspecting flesh.
So beware
Of the uncontrolled fire in my heart.

Beware The Burned.
They burn, too.