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Writer's pictureDaniel Paice

The Flames of Empathy


When I looked at you, you burst into flame.

As the flame burnt, you did not scream. 

Instead you outstretched your hand; our hands interlocked,

gently brushing between the thumb and forefinger.


The flames, they licked the surface of your skin, 

And made their way until the flames now consumed my own hand.

The flames, they burnt. 

They burnt until my body was enveloped. 

There we were, 

Two vessels of the human existence sharing the pain 


Your eyes were locked onto mine, as mine were yours.

As I watched, a single, solitary, tear fell down your face — like the ripping of paint from a canvas.

The pain that was once yours is now mine, and I cannot think of a better person to share it with. 

Let me carry this until you are ready to let go.

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