Darkroom

Pyromania Is a Killer Trait

I remember the thought that
flooded my head
at the sight of
broken glass and fire.
I remember the heat of
the flames that were spilling out
near my left leg.
I remember the sound as
the glass spread about
like diamonds
and
the wood popped and crackled.
I remember that I couldn't
tear my eyes away from such
a wonderful sight.
I always liked the
grey-blue color
of the house,
but a charred color
was slightly better.