2nd Degree Burns

At first it’s nothing, only banter
The racist kind that stings and burns
A little, only a little, so small
So I laugh with them
And I brush off the charred
And keep my mind,
Cool

But then words are slapped
Like second degree
For second class, a plague they cast
And it sears across my face,
The steam still rising from their tongues
And the mark it’s left to them is non-
Existent, but I feel it.
The red mark burns me slow.

Others push and tease me
Their hands hurt my skin
And I feel fragile like quirrell
My face about to crumble
How many degrees hotter must I get
Before I burst into flames?

A stranger’s fist dents the wall
Next to me, rattling me
The pressure rising in my blood
It boils and curdles over and over
It’s not supposed to rise that high
One degree more, two degrees more

Their hate becomes mine
And mine becomes heat
And the heat is sealed under my hood
But not for long
The tape it peels, the screws undo

And like a volcano it all erupts
A flamethrower spitting rage at them
Scalding them hotter than ever before
Their skin charred darker
And crisper than mine

And when I’m done I realise
That I was not to any degree
Better than any of them had been
And I cool so cold that my insides freeze
Far far below zero degrees
I hope that rage in me forever will sleep.