I have a lot on my body,
Like I have been in a war
Like I have stolen my own beauty
It petrifies me,
Like I can never amend
Every night I fall asleep
With the forced hope,
That my body will instinctively react to my pain
And cure what’s not beauty in their thesaurus.
This feeling is universal,
The doctors send me a parcel
Hoping, a prescription has all the answers.
I haven’t yet identified a way,
To tell boys at my school,
That even if blemishes hide my facial charm,
I can radiate inner beauty,
Like an enchantress clasps the wicked.
– Scars and beauty in the century
Kaushiki Ishwar is a receptive and an idiosyncratic writer who is pioneering rigorously for her high school diploma and will be releasing her debut poetry collection. She currently lives in Ghaziabad, India.