VEINS
The green threads of survival running through my hands got lost.
My eyes bloodshot with pain and a strange blackness covered my body.
I felt molested.
Each nerve on my neck screamed of assault, assault that caused bruises more on
my existence, than on my face.
The yellow water on my hands slowly ate my flesh, turned it into a poisonous
mixture.
The ring Aftab gave me fell from my finger.
I looked down. I had no fingers.
I wake up to a glass tomb on my body. The world calls me half dead, they ask
me for my name ;and I tell them –
I’m an acid-attack surviver.
by VRINDA VAID
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