Burning/Possessed

I'll burn, as I should. The conflagration is my own creation. Self made, in this way, by self-immolation. I tried hard to put out fires, but, myself, was the match and the tinder. The real madness was believing I put my pieces back together and the space you, darkness, took in me could be other occupied. Demon, I'm gladly possessed. Come in and make a home. You'll not want for warmth and you can sharpen your claws on my medusa's heart. You, alone, I can never turn to stone.