A Silhouette of Whispers

A silhouette of whispers, hovering my form,

A blanket of hate draped around my shape

For a mistake, I hadn't committed

For a fault that I am to not be blamed,

To trust or be trusted,

I have lost the sanguinity to do both.

Robbed of a future I once envisioned,

Because my skin has been carved into a form,

That no cream, no treatment, no fair and lovely can heal,

A liquid made to educate and help,

The very reason for my destruction, irreplaceable scab

While judgmental stares have finally befriended me,

no matter how bitter, I have learned to taste them.

Coz I know they are unstoppable,

I have to get accustomed to a new experience

That has me scarred for life,

All I can do is to advocate,

Against harm to either gender,

That could potentially distort their personality, disfigure their appearance, tarnish their future.

I am the voice, of an acid attack victim

Hafsa Writes