Taken: A Spoken Word

 

Streetlights

Hood up

Head down

One foot in front of the other

Silence

Not a soul around

Silence

Sirens in the distance

Silence

Air is still

Silence

...

Out from the darkness

Wrists grabbed

Screams, but can anyone hear?

Needles

Eyes get heavier

Knees go weak

Body starts to shut down

Out of consciousness

Darkness

Taken

 

27 Million

27 million have had their happiness taken from them

27 million have had their freedom taken from them

27 million have had their faith taken from them

All for what?

Money?

How can a person become so corrupt to the point where they treat another person as an object?

Why is this issue such a coveted topic?

Why do we ignore this?

Why?

 

Back on the streets

But running away is not an option

Working for the pleasure of others

Scars

Bruises

Cuts

Burns

Damaged beyond repair

My body is no longer my choice

Constant state of panic

So far away from home

Can’t show any emotion

Alone

 

At what point did the trust of another person become so risky?

At what point did it become nerve racking to walk down the street?

At what point did we start having to stay at home because of fear?

At what point did this come back?

Did it ever go away?

Slavery supposedly ended years ago

Why did they lie to us?

 

Scrubbing

Bent over

The smell of chlorine reeks from my hands

Eyes water

Legs tremble

Breath shakes

Mind blank

Fear of them walking in to hit me

Yell at me

Rape me

Life is hell

 

The ones that are trafficked become statistics

The ones that are trafficked lose everything about themselves

Their personality

Their dignity

Their will to live

They become the shell of who they once were

It isn’t their fault

It’s what they’re forced to do

Say no?

Get beat

Show emotion?

Get beat

Abused physically, mentally, sexually

 

Huddled

Dark

Alone

Too scared to move

Mind is blank

What has life become?

This can’t be real

But it’s all too real

Cuts from knives and blades

Burns from cigarettes and lighters

Bruises from hitting and belts

My body is an artifact of who I once was

My reflection is old photograph

I am not here anymore

 

If we don’t do something, it’ll get worse

The numbers will grow

The pain will grow

How long can we let this go on for?

Victims need a voice

We cannot pretend a problem doesn’t exist

We need to face the problem

We need to stop the madness

We need to end it