She was completely shocked, a tear rolled down her eye. The picture she saw in the mirror is hers. She finally saw exactly who she is on the inside. An elegant painting of her that only an artist on the inside could observe. She radiated with the natural beauty of who she is. “This is me.”, was all she could utter. This was the first time she was seeing her in the mirror after a terrible acid attack.

She could see from the start of the exit. Since the closet is no longer hidden. The weight of the dysphoria is slowly lifted. She becomes the butterfly from the caterpillar transition. She could finally be comfortable in her skin.

To be who she has always been. She’s now comfortable with her fourth-degree burn and all the scars on her face.

So many questions remained unanswered in the depths of her heart. But she is continuing her life as nothing happened and that has become a common art to her. Like a moon hiding behind the dark clouds of the night.

Somewhere in a long way, she has lost her will to fight. Fight against people, society, facial structure, depression…

She somehow stopped living and started learning the ways to survive and to pretend.

She gave up hopes and dreams and became an empty space that has no start, no end, no recreation, it’s a null loop. Life became a painful cycle for her where misery repeats itself in every turn.
Like a giant curse struck her life with the point of no return.
Her eyes are dead, words are shallow and feelings became numb in this life forever. She’s ignored, harassed and tired.
She’s living just like how a dead fish which goes with the flow in the river.

She looked at the mirror and asked herself, “How long should I continue to survive in this fake happiness, in this one big lie? “, she also said, “I am done with this dark empty night, neither I wish to see sunshine in the dawn of tomorrow.
All I wish is to close my eyes and see nothing, feel nothing, do nothing and hope this will end my sorrow.
I’m losing my grip on reality and
Making a trip to insanity ”

She listens to the music so the noises and voices don’t continue in her head.

The decaying of the living mixed with the cold freshness of the dead, How many more times will she be bled?

A bowl full of lies she’s all fed, launched at her from the birth of her new self, the conformity only spreads,

What was once a memory of the past, becomes tomorrow’s next path and the dread of the following lasts!

Into a system of society, we are set like casts, kept in line because of the life-ending blasts, taken out in bags like trash
and she wishes that one day it will heal, this gash…
She knows, relief is on the way, but not very fast.

Walking over the suffering that makes her cringe, only to see that it’s all on a dark fringe
Then plummets to chaos and everything becomes unhinged.

The insanity of the living memory, that acid attack is the crucible of her life. That set her free and also drive her to oblivion, by shattering her well being. By obliterating her fragmented mind and delivering it to the gates of the harbinger… where life or death awaits.

It was a prison, and also freedom… it’s just a matter of seeing it in the right light. Daring her to stand witness to all she has faced, all she has cried for.. those she has regretted for.
Opening the doors of her inner being, allowing the harbinger to swell and fester.

Planting a seed, to the inevitable reunification of her past judgements, all the wrong deeds towards herself, her present circumstance and her future fate. Giving rise to that very seed planted, so many years ago. That will either seep into her immortal soul, blossoming into a flowering orchid, as a beacon for all to see. Giving rise to a soul reborn, redeemed and resurrected, showing the world how humankind should be.

She got that power,
To look in the mirror, but see an unfamiliar face of hers.
To try to hide the hurt, but it’s all that remains ;
To want people near, but not even a toxic shadow around…

It has been quite the journey to get to this point. She lost so much in who she was trying to be. She lost confidence, she lost respect, friends and she lost so much in finally becoming who she is within. No holding back from the hate, prejudice and bigotry. Always fearing leaving her door. So many people who left her scorn. Not to be fooled, but good people do reside in her corner.

The people who helped, the people whose shoulder she could cry. The support, the encouragement, the friends who are family that knows she is not a lie. She got it all together inside. Now her painting, her picture, her reflection reflected exactly who she is inside. She’s healing inside out.