The Art of Worrying.

I feared the fire so I lit my body red
I sat there and let it burn toe to head  
I realized I had looked for the match  
Perhaps I could have avoided the mishap  
 
But the possibility just wouldn't leave me alone  
If I was to burn why do it tomorrow  
  
I held a letter as I realized I was alive  
The signature at the bottom demanding that I die  
By the time I woke and charred my flesh beyond repair  
Too late was it to get back the time before the flare  
   
I looked for the accelerant  
I sought that which would spurn  
I found it was me  
Who sentenced myself to burn.