By Kalyani Warrier
Beautiful yet, beaten senseless.
Her mind starts to wander, she is more unstable than deemed before.
Her memories start to fade, much like her scars.
But the pain of a lifted hand unwillingly accepted lingers.
Beautiful she is, therefore, she’s punished for it.
She is punished as eyes set upon her.
Cover yourself up! And come a whack, all she wakes up to is the pain on her cheek.
Her books lay in a corner, collecting dust and cobwebs.
She is reminded that this home, the home she grew up in, is not hers anymore.
As she embarks on a journey to the unknown, she is greeted.
But all the embrace soon turns to torture.
Honey, beloved, my child, dear - words foggy in memory.
‘I am cursed’, that much she knows. What for is a mystery she will never uncover.
By Kalyani Warrier
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