Messing with you

Mami always said not to play with fire, but I always did anyway. I guess I just couldn't help myself. I remember when I was like... what? 6? Mami got into a phase, where she just loved putting candles every where. Said they made the house smell nice. Told me not to touch 'em too. But one day, when she went to work, she came back to the bathroom on fire. With me sitting at the center of it all, dangling a roll of toilet paper, that was slowly burning over the toilet. I ended up with burns that later turned into scars on my feet. But I didn't care. I got to play with the pretty dancing lights.

Just like you Sinn... I told myself not to mess with you. You were nice. You were pretty. But on the inside, you burned. Everything. You. Touched. I saw it in your eyes when you were messing with someone that didn't know the difference between their right and their left. When you got someone to jump without you asking. When people praised you for just existing. Oblivious to what you do in your spare time.

But I guess I just couldn't help myself from messing with you.