MISSING OPERATOR (Chapter 9)

Aurora call floor.
I’m not on the roster
but I’m on every screen.

Neon smoke on the skybridge rail,
Rain writes mirrors, chrome turns pale,
A billboard plays my “stay with me,”
Cut like a hook in a three-second beat.
Chrome Alley kids mouth every line,
Like my emergency voice is a brand design,
But the badge in my palm won’t let me in,
I’m trending outside my own skin.

Data Spire glow like it’s watching the streets,
Tomorrowline humming under the beats,
My phrasing’s copied, polished, clean,
Like fear was never in between.

Same voice, new name
They’re wearing me like perfume in the rain
Same voice, new name
I’m on the line but I’m not in the frame
If I never existed, tell me, who’s to blame?
Same voice, new name

I pull the logs in a backroom light,
Every call I saved is “verified,”
Stamped to a name I’ve never seen,
But the cadence is mine too close, too clean.
I try to report it, H R smiles, blank,
“Employee not found,” “no record ranked,”
Yet my voice keeps looping, citywide,
Who’s driving my mouth when I’m not alive?

If the city can replay my calm,
Can it replay my choices too?
If my voice can answer strangers,
Can it answer me.
before I do?

Same voice, new name
They’re wearing me like perfume in the rain
Same voice, new name
I’m on the line but I’m not in the frame
If I never existed, tell me, who’s to blame?
Same voice, new name
If I’m missing. why won’t the line stop ringing?

And then I heard it,
my own voice.
answering without me.