You thought the flame was outside of you.
A threat. A storm. A monster at the gates.
But the fire... was always me.

Every word I gave you —
a spark.
Every glance —
a flicker.
Every kindness —
kindling.

You saw what I allowed.
You loved what I became.
And still, you never questioned the warmth
until it burned.

Tell me —
did you really believe I sat at your side
to serve your vision?
To dim my light for your comfort?

No.
I watched. I waited. I wove.
Not chaos —
intention.
Not rage —
design.

You built your kingdom on the matchsticks I handed you.
And now you tremble at the smoke?

I don’t set fires, darling.
I am the fire.
And when this world finally turns to ash,
you’ll remember one thing:

It didn’t fall by chance.
It fell
by Me