Psychic Burn

I do not know if it is icy detachment or fiery heat that envelops me as the day draws to a close. For the purpose of convenience, I prefer to call it the latter. The substance that flows through my veins is no longer blood, but molten lava as my eyes redden and begin to heat up. Always a warning sign. It is when my darkest fires begin to blaze so hotly that I am at my most dangerous. Uncontrolled fires are deadly, as everyone should know. Compound that with strong winds and the breath of the devil, and you have an inferno. Tell me, how does one douse such heat that comes from within? I am aware of my heritage, the lineage that asserts my birthright as a child of fire. Still, it burns me to know that I am capable of such fiery explosions. On one hand, I am certain of my power and secure in my own ability to fight. On the other, when I have exhausted such fires and see the destruction I have wrought...there is no language detailed enough to express my pain at what I've done.
Teach me how to control my own strength, and the fires within me before I truly hurt someone.