Cinderella

I burn pages as I write.
I burn bridges as I cross.
Like a moth to a flame
The burn draws to me,
It engulfs. It lights me up.
Makes me fiery,
As the art flows.
The ashes float up.
Ashes and soot,
Smoke and fire,
Burning and inflaming.
The flames from blue to yellow.
Hot, heated, melting.
Burning my life to cinders.