— a haunting cry, a name unnamed.
i was alive when they found me there,
naked and bare, no clues to repair,
laid on a cold table, exposed to despair,
"who is she?" one asked, "is she even from here?"
i was alive when they searched all around,
"tall, petite, and fair," another's voice, a hollow sound,
"none reported missing," the officer frowned,
i was alive, desperate, but no help was found.
i was alive as they named me jane doe,
barely eighteen, with decay's first show,
"no sign of struggle," said one, "just woe,"
i was alive beneath their blinding flash glow.
i was alive when they dug their knives deep,
into my flesh, as they took their keep,
"careful with the incision," one cautioned with precision,
i was alive, screaming, lost in their division.
i was alive when they cut me open wide,
and sewed me shut with a cold, clinical stride,
"it's necessary," said another, "to preserve her inside,"
i was alive, aching, as my spirit cried.
i was alive when they drained my blood,
"try to stay calm," one said, "this is just our job,"
i was alive in darkness, as they sewed my eyes shut,
"oh, god, no!" i screamed, but my cries were cut.
i was alive when they dressed me in a gown so tight,
"its fit must be perfect," said one, "a final sight,"
i was alive when they rolled me back,
among unclaimed souls, their gaze turned black.
"back in the drawer," said one, "just another case,"
i was alive, screaming, "why am i in this place?"
