The Used, The Abused, The Unlovable Creature (Poem)

Before you pursue reading this poem, some of the content may be disturbing and alarming, however it is for the intentional purposes of revealing the explicit truth upon human trafficking. I am personally not a victim of human trafficking, but for poetic uses I am writing in first person upon the matter. Thank you!

I’m like the prey entrapped in a vulture’s nest,

As he thirsts for the blood of my sexuality.

And devours my every fragment of hope.

He entangles me as his captive,

Reminding me of the damned whore I am,

Reminding me of the men I must serve to please,

Reminding me of my complete and utter worthlessness.

Beaten, bruised, and sexually abused,

Capable of performing the act of making love,

But yet never experiencing true love from any soul.

My Master grips me by my uncombed hair,

Pulling so aggressively it’s as if my scalp is being torn,

And he leads me to his virile membrane,

Choking, gagging, regurgitating.

As my tears begin to flood the region,

I wish I could escape such cruelties,

And travel to a new land like Noah’s Ark.

But my Master is very displeased,

And slaps me for my childish behavior.

He takes me to his horrific dungeon,

Whips, blades, chains,

And other torture-some tools,

All embark my body with such an excruciating pain,

A pain beyond measure, a pain beyond my tolerance.

I wither as a weak carcass in the darkest chambers,

As the Devil continues his torment upon my lowly soul

But who am I to mean of any matter to you?

Dehumanized, animalized, and objectified.

I’m not even worthy to be identified by my name,

But I’m defined by my number,

Defined by my price,

Defined by the social justices of human trafficking.

#humantrafficking #poem #poetry #abuse #sex #prostitution #torment