I’m not a pyromaniac, but my emotions are like a fire.
Not dealing with past trauma because I don’t have what that would require.
So when I find myself alone and fighting the darkness in my head,
I end up saying so many things I wish were never said.

And as I look around at all the bridges that I’ve burned,
I know that by now, I really should have learned.
And as the smoke clears and my lash-outs subside,
I find myself alone again just wishing I would die.

When my emotions take control of me, my friends aren’t the only ones I harm,
I take the tip of my lighter and I burn a “U” right into my arm.
At first it feels Euphoric, like I’m burning away my distress,
But the scars that it leaves behind constantly remind me that I’m a mess.