murder

i scream, in vain
your tools pierce me
in my most delicate places
this will feel good, you say

the thrill in your eyes is evident
i lie limp, only my trembles
betraying how i feel, because
i'm not supposed to feel anything

his scent was familar, laced with venom
suddenly, i was covered in something
so impure, ironically, in pure white
this body had given itself to him

my insides still stirred with his influence
as i hoped death would come quickly
to this soiled anatomy
to being "deflowered", as if i had wilted

and his tools were put away
as the job was finished
but he was no longer a doctor
but my coroner

 

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