The other night Megan and I visited one of the bars we’ve been building relationships with.
What we found was heart breaking. One of our friends has had a customer for over a week now.
We spoke with her one of the days and she was really distraught and sad.
She said her customer hadn’t treated her well. The bruises on her arm tell the story.
She’s been with this customer for about a week now –
and no longer carries the smile we grew so used to seeing when we met her.
(Below is some processing from my journal as I thought about her situation + a few pics.)
Rented for a week. I’m so tired I can barely speak.
Performing his cheap thrills, at least it pays the bills.
It’s a shame to let this week go to waste – maybe soon I’ll get out of this place.
He’s picked me not once, but a few times now.
I’m his lady of the night – anyway he says how.
The bruises are part of the package.
My ‘owner’, he determines if I’m distracted.
I’ve tried to pull away a time or two – His fingerprints reminded me enough is enough.
I’m tough. I can work my way through.
My joy has gone missing.
Not sure what to do.
I’ll play the part, it’st just a few more days.
My eyes are sunken – life no longer in my gaze.
Performance is key – I wish this jerk would leave.
Since when can he decide to keep me – I can’t afford to not let him sleep with me.
His charming days are over. He’s a porky, white bulldozer.
His hair is matted and gray – it hasn’t been combed in days.
He sure pays well – hope my face doesn’t swell.
It won’t be forever, just until we can get ahead.
People think I’m crazy, or perhaps just plain ol’ lazy.
What they don’t see is how sick this guy really is.
Things done in secret…his lonely heart keeper.
I’ll make it through. Don’t give up whatever you do.
