by Dori Lavelle
When a man buys my body, I shut off my emotions, close my eyes, and force myself to push through. No thinking. No feeling. No breaking apart.
Soon the debts will be paid. Soon I’ll scrub their cologne and sweat from my skin and walk away from this business for good, pretending it never happened.
For now, my body is not my own. For now, I belong to any man who can afford me.