గ్రంథాలయం
ప్రొఫైల్
Blemished Childhood
Blemished Childhood
His practiced fingers slithered
over my body
and drew curves of pleasure,
while his honeyed voice
whispered sweet-nothings
into my innocent ears.
He sang unheard rhymes.
He brought dolls and books.
Along with these, he injected
something that took me
to the pinnacle of joy.
What did he poison me with?
I'd never know.
Years later I came to know
that the drawings on my body
had different names.
They were called scars, bruises, and cuts.
How he could inflict pain with terror
is a mystery I am yet to solve.
He's long gone.
His artworks on my body glitter
and remind of his supposed love for me.
I wonder whose childhood
he's blemishing right now.
He went by different names
when he met me each day.
His toxic smile and unabashed stares
never allowed me to ask his real name.
He would always be that vile monster to me.
And I would be one of his
surviving masterpieces,
who would struggle each day
to destroy monsters like him.
