ETA

static demands pry ears from current work
busy hands quickly finish, settle, sort
interrupting continuityheavy sigh escapes, tossing on layer of cotton protection
hands reach for over-used box of implements
tourniquet, needles, gauze, tubes, tape
quickly, efficiently, wasting no steps, until
standing, waiting, preparing
deep breath in

doors whir open, allowing inside
tangle of legs, board on wheels, body on board
lines all over, strapped down
still thrashing, wild eyes look about
steady drones hover over it

lights bright, reveal little blood, just a hole
disembodied voice calls out, maybe it was stopped by the skull
mere moments allotted to dodge in
between bodies, under reach
gently slide needle into vein, life flows into clinical tubes
wild eyes lock, looking askance, I’m gonna die

I’m gonna die, I’m gonna die

eyes intensely seek answer they already know
looking deep, gentle voice speaks
be calm, just listen, it’s okay, breathe, I can hear you
litany continues, soothing just a touch
knowing already fates response

I’m gonna die

no breath now of its own accord, mechanically they pump
out the entangled mass flows, through more doors
to take scientific photographs of the wound

not the wounded

I think mine was the last voice that spoke to his dying ears

(left unedited except for spelling, don’t know that I want to brush this up yet, as it was more stream of consciousness and I’m not in the same part of the stream as when I wrote it so I might muddy it more than help)
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