Death by Fire

I wanted to die in fire,
to fade into the setting sun.
Burning bight
and burning fast.
Burning,
until it's done.

I bought it to go out blazing,
in a burst
and then be gone.
Too late to love,
too late to hope
too late to be holding on.

The liquid fire was to lead me,
on a course of destiny.
Set by my own intention,
to end these days,
written in agony.
In this single act,
of scorching,
reeling
self-destruction,
I was to set myself
free.

Instead I found a frozen forever
crystallized inside my pain.
Chipping away across the years -
drunken shards,
bleeding shards,
shards
are all that remain.

Now I beg the fire to melt me,
to wash my existence away,
to swallow it up
in bottle sized gulps
and help me
waste away.

In this pattern of addiction,
I walk the roads
I've known before.
Though following
something new,
something altered,
the road is still sure.
It's the path I've traveled by,
and now sink into walking again,
in this my pleading,
in this my needing,
to finally,
be no more.