i have a fire in my belly
a fire that multiplies
with every pained look in her eyes
with every word of condolence forced from an iron stone glance
a courteous gesture as meaningless as the casserole that rots on her counter
a fire that grows when i see
the slits on her wrists from restless broken nights
and wordless screams
a fire that turns blue with heat when i look upon
the blank stares of girls with blackened knuckles
and torn lips
a fire that licks
spreads
eats
devours
upon the rhythmic taps and twists of the girl sitting behind her metallic desk
knocking her feet in the fruitless effort to create
tempi she can rely on (a beat that in its spaces
she can crawl and hide from the uncontrollable)
i have a fire in my belly
and it feeds on the pain of a girl i sometimes know
but is otherwise foreign to me
except in the shadows and corners of those bleak
defeating nights.