Still Not Found

You know, it really doesn't matter, does it? My name, your name, the name of the men who storm in, guns drawn, uniforms pressed, cameras at the ready to record the destruction you wrought. They don't have names, either, just badge numbers. I am a case number, you, you are a series of numbers, 188, height, weight, charge numbers, crime numbers, docket numbers.

1. That is the number of weapons you used.
2. That is the number of body parts you hit me with.
3. That is the number of bones you broke in my face.
7. That is the number of distinct memory lapses I have.
2. The number of MRIs I had because of this.
9. The number of hours I waited in emerge.
2. The number of police officers who came to every incident involving you.
1. The number of family members I lost because of this.
4. The number of dogs I sold to pay for you to have a lawyer before you did this.
3. The number of pills it will take to end this
12. The number of pills to take prior to ease the way.
27. the number of ml I think will work.
35. The age at which all innocence is lost.
30. The age at which you first learned to kill.

But no names. None of us have names. Not you, not me, not them.