Daniela Oana - Poet and Photographer

They Found It 

They found the drugs hid in my hair

They found alcohol spilt on my dress

They found me in a corner’s filth

They found my lipstick smudged off

They found my mascara in a messy run

They found my nylons dirty and torn

They found my other shoe further away

They found my hand in the water puddle

They found my pink broken nail

They found dried blood on my face

They found bruises on both of my legs

They found me beaten to the ground

They found me left for dead.

I found them feeling my pulse

I found them laying my wrist back down

I found myself hearing their echoing urge

I found myself seen from above in my new blue dress

I found it the most peaceful of days

I found strength to open my eyes for a moment

I found a glimpse of their blur and a blinding sunray

I found the morning birds chirping so gaily

I found myself on crisp white bed sheets.

You found a clean trail from the tear I shed

You found my long hair but in utter mess

You found your watch still on my wrist

You found me as sad as you left me

You found me in a morgue.

You gave my full name to the coroner.