Dawn breaks through the cracks in my porcelain skin.
I have awakened outside of the windowless walls
tightly packed away in this box home,
on the sides, a stamped FRAGILE.
Is that what I am now?
Filed away into spread sheets, statistics,
my name reassigned to a case number while
my clothes, my once identity,
lie in a box labeled EVIDENCE.
I am a phoenix.
My porcelain skin will shatter and
I will rise from the jagged pieces, wings spanning,
feathers a hot fire, eyes a steel gray.
I will depart from these boxes fierce, reborn,
my talons clutching a piece of paper titled LADY LAZARUS.