Skin Deep

I try to conceal my charred remains

Under my black, opaque set of veils,

As they mock, laugh and point fingers

At my disfigured face; the curses do linger.

I see kids terrified and scurrying away, 

At the very horrendous sight of mine, at bay.

But I've learnt to swallow those tears, 

Now oblivious and numb to all the jeers.

Every surgery I undergo reminds me 

Of the day you hurled the effervescent fluid,

Diminishing me to a pulpy mass,

Corroding my identity to a carcass! 

I do recall the way I lay on the ground:

Passive, besmirched. Incinerated,

My shrieks rising to a crescendo,

While my sanctity was questioned in their innuendos.

I stared bleakly at your figure, retreating,

"Did the firm 'No' to his caustic advances lead me to this inferno?" I kept on thinking.

I often trace my fingers across my face, 

To touch my shriveled nose and molten ears.

I still feel my dermis soaked in aqua regia,

Carving deeper within my contours each day.

I'm left recollecting the shards of glass 

From all the mirrors I frequently break.

Looking through my old pictures,

My mind reeks of agony and despair,

Thinking of what I've become

And how easily you got to go away with it. 

You failed to realise that I'm a phoenix

And shall resurrect from my ashes,

Shielding others from demons like you,

So that nobody meets the same hapless fate!

The day will come when you'll hear my name 

In the darkness of confinement and guilt,

And see how beautifully I live this life.

Beauty inundated my soul eons before the attack

And shall always continue to;

For it never was, and won't be just 'skin deep'.