Diary of a Working Girl
Girl alone or full on piled
As they slipped through blood,
“Oh this girl’s wild”
She didn’t know her breaths could be swallowed
Oh no, she was just a child
4, 5, who loses count?
“Where is my rescue,
What’s this about?”
Men on rotation
Hearing the bed shudder
Her soul-emptied isolation
Was their new world order
Orgasms of screams
Remembering the memes
Rape 1 in 5
But gangs sing 4 and he’s number 5
Definitely no lotion
Toilet paper wipes peel skin if you let them
The shush was supposedly potion
But their shakes just ripped her open
Her soul surrendering to the knives
Stomach hurls as the bones curl
“These men will surely give me hives”
All this time, still she never cries
Why? Why, God why?
My heart was pinned down in my stomach
No voice, nowhere to run, nowhere to hide
I would never lie. No never cry.
Too terrified of their clutch to ever do such
These men held my soul and took my dignity
Stole me, in and out, without a penny
They say working girl, but I just want to hurl
Now words swallowed in wails because pimps only want sales
Afterward, stripped bare, I struggled to do my hair
Pulled tight, who even cares about their height?
Not the cops, it’s not their fight
In the shower they loosed their power
Then the door opened and I flew from the night