A Whore No More

She woke to the sound of rustling paper
The light streamed through the open windows
This was the day after
She was a whore no more

Picking up the notes she stuffed them into her wallet
Education and street smarts helped her
A workplace with chairs and tables
Not just a bed

Being a sex worker had not been so hard
After a while she even enjoyed it
She could close her eyes and imagine she was making love
Even orgasms appeared from time to time

The hard part was washing away the smell of the men
The scent of sweat mixed with desperation and occasionally with grief
No matter how much she scrubbed
The scent always lingered on her skin or so she thought

She would miss this life
Where she was desired and at times admired
There were the dark days of course
Her body was used to the abuse

It was the only life she knew
Somehow the real world seemed scarier
She was no longer selling her body
She was a whore no more

Hope is a dangerous thing she thought
It makes you believe in things that aren’t really there
This would be the big step, the big risk she had to take
This was her day to hope

That she had a lot more to give and to receive

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