Fire.

Try to not let the smoke get in your eyes,
When my flame gives off so much of it.
    I get tired of you, all of you.
    There isn't a new, sexier, version of me.
  Because every version,
  Still doesn't give a fuck.
Snap your fingers,
The spark lingers,
Lick, licky friction,
Lighting my ignition,
You turn fact into fiction,
Completely fluid and without shape.
Not not to drown,
I suck all of the oxygen out of people's head,
They get tired of running, and sit down for their sweet tea and Cherry-Limeades,
And I eat.
   The trees are out of my league,
Never stopped me from burning them down.
They were beautiful and and capable of making god swoon,
But that didn't keep me from burning them down.