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  • Writer's picturetheplantnews


Vasiliki Kanaras


On this day, my stomach is cut open. My insides are on a steel table and dozens upon dozens of men are looking at what I have to offer.

They take my liver and are in awe of its size. They touch my lungs, unaffected by their contracting movements, and my heart. My beautiful heart beat before them. My ribs are pulled apart, granting them full access to whatever they please. "What a discovery!" One of them said to my captor.

He tells them what he is doing. He says that he is the best scientist, and I am his experiment. I am his. His, his, his. He doesn't even tell them my name. He doesn't care. Mercy, I begged the first time he planted the scalpel into my abdomen.

When I had made the mistake of pleading another time, he cut off my tongue.


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