you burn bridges when you're
only halfway across,
flame licking at your heels as you
laugh manically, matches still hot in your hand.
pain and hope and grief and blood, they
all go up in smoke, all the same, all the same.
cause you love the thrill of the
screams and horror, torture, the scent of
your own burning flesh filling you up
(and bringing you down, sweetie)
one of these days you won't
escape in time,
and you'll wind up alone. and
with all your friendships burned to ash,
you've lit your own funeral pyre. so
go on and burn, honey.