Kerouac once wrote that we should burn,
Burn like fabulous Roman candles.
But me, I am already on fire,
And my sparks have the potential to destroy
Anything within my radius.
I am a deep amber, but I do not glow
My light will never be strong enough
To help you see in your darkness.
I am the fire that can only spread and destroy.
Destructive, not constructive.
I can make your skin shimmer under my touch
But you must push me away,
Because eventually the heat will increase,
And I will leave you with only scars.
Kerouac had a vision of life, of soul, of love
But I am his Neal Cassady in this story,
His ‘Moriarty’ On the Road,
The mad Roman candle who burns,
Burns, burns, burns and then destroys.