Empathy

It starts under my skin:
The burn, the blush
That creeps beneath my smile
And twists it to a grimace.
Smoke seeps into my lungs
And is not expelled with every cough.
Shaky hands touch my temple,
Trying to compress the pounding into a steady beat,
But nothing stops the flame-fed pulse
That rages in my heart
From infecting my mind.
 
It wins this round.
 
After the fact
You can see ashes behind my eyes
And my bones might snap
If you touch my blistered skin.
But empathy’s depth,
The elation and devastation
That destroyed me today
Will soon burn to warm a hearth,
And strangers will call it
“Home.”