Across my thigh today,
I scrawled a word.
In pink marker,
A four-letter word.

Early today was found,
An unidentified victim,
A brunette teenage female,
A suspected case of suicide.

No cause of death apparent,
No exit wounds or bullet holes,
No slash\'n\'dash or hit and run,
Requires further examination.

They pulled away her clothes,
And off white undergarments.
They opened up her stomach,
And examined what lay within.

They weighed and measured .
They drew blood and tested.
Trying to unravel the mysteries of,
Their brown haired green-eyed Jane Doe.

\"Victim Jane Doe 226,
Recent scars visible on,
Arms breasts and abdomen.
The stomach contains,
Large amounts of an alcohol,
And several undigested pills.
The bladder is ruptured,
Suggesting excessive drinking.
The liver was bleeding internally,
Most likely from the consumption,
Of too many assorted pharmaceuticals.
Most probable cause of death-
Suicide. By means of overdose...\"

A tired pathology technician ,
Bent down to take a closer look,
\"...Oh well what have we here?\"

And then they knew.

Because she branded herself,
The day before.
A four-letter word,
Scrawled across her thighs.
In a vibrant neon pink.

They turned to each other,
And nodded in comprehension.
Case closed, time to go home,
And began to take off their gloves.

One of them rewound the Dictaphone,
And began to record again.
\"Victim Jane Doe 226,
Cause of death is obvious.
A victim to the virus,
Insecurity, paranoia.
A textbook case,
Of self-loathing.\"

Then they covered up the body,
With a non-descript white sheet.
And then they wheeled the trolley,
Into freezer space 226.