someone once took a match and lit a fire in my belly

and ever since I first became aware of it I have tried

almost desperately

to find out who.

it wasn’t until the hair pulling and nail biting became a problem that

anybody taught me

what this fire was.

I thought it was anger

I was thirteen and mad at the world.

it was my right.

I thought it was fear

because I don’t know how to control myself

how can anyone else?

and then he told me

that my emotions weren’t the ones driving the car,

winking

knowing

I was trying to master stick shift.

since then

I breathe smoke

and sit on hot coals

and when I feel the heat

it doesn’t burn like

motivation does.