3rd degree

I touch my finger to the flame, I twinge, as I pull back my skin has bubbled from the heat. I inhale the familiar smoke, feel it burn my esophagus and cake onto my lungs. I choke, black smoke pours out of my nostrils. The last thing I smell is burning hair, as my locks are aflame. I close my eyes, as bright as day under my lids. High and shrill I scream for help, smoke seeps out of my mouth and leaves trails through the air. Fully ablaze I cry, my tears evaporate from my cheeks. You sit there, watching me smolder. Toasting your marshmallow.