Ashes and Gasoline

You lit a match, said it was love,

Watched me burn and called it “tough.”

Told me I was too much flame,

Then blamed me when you felt the pain.

I gave you fire, you gave me smoke,

Turned every promise into a joke.

Now I’m done playing your pretty fool—

I rewrite rules, and I break ‘em too.

You built me up just to leave a crack,

But I learned how to light the match.

Every wound you tried to hide—

I wear them now with battle pride.

I’m not your mess to clean,

I’m ashes and gasoline.

You thought you’d leave me cold and dim,

But baby, I was born to burn again.

I’m not your quiet scene—

I’m chaos in ripped jeans.

This is the part where I redeem—

In ashes… and gasoline.

You played god in my soft skin,

Wrote your guilt like violin.

But I don’t break the way I used to—

I break back now… like I’m supposed to.

You loved the echo, not the scream,

But I’m the voice inside your dreams.

No more dimming just to stay—

I’m setting fire to yesterday.

I’m not your mess to clean,

I’m ashes and gasoline.

You thought you’d leave me cold and dim,

But baby, I was born to burn again.

I’m not your quiet scene—

I’m chaos in ripped jeans.

This is the part where I redeem—

In ashes… and gasoline.

Let the sirens sound, let the sky go red,

I’m alive in the fire you thought was dead.

I don’t need closure, I don’t need peace—

Just a spark and a reason to leave.

I’m not your mess to clean,

I’m ashes and gasoline.

You thought you’d leave me torn and bent,

But darling, I ignite my own descent.

I’m not your guilty dream—

I’m thunder, I’m kerosene.

I rise, I burn, I set the scene—

In ashes… and gasoline.