Fear in My Heart

How do I describe my sense of knowing what I wish had never occurred.

A sense of remembering what hell was, a sense of remembering whilst wanting close it all down.

How can I find words or paragraphs to fit my past.

I may never be able to reach in without shutting down, but I am will write.

I am proud to be a poet, a writer, a seeker of language – I am proud of my stamina that is this blog.

In this post rambling post, I am reaching out to my readers and allies, to say thanks for hearing my slow and often confused discovery of my prostituted Self.

Thanks for allowing me to be vulnerable, thanks for letting me show without asking me to censor my reality.

Thanks for coping when I go backwards, and believing that I am going forward.

Thanks for reading my many gaps and silences, and learning to fill it in with your experiences or language, but see with a clear eye how trauma is embedded in all forms of prostitution.

I could do this work without your understanding, patience and compassion.

For to write this blog, I have to as honest even as pain, fear and grief drown me.

My readers and allies are holding me tight so I do not stop breathing.

Trauma for the prostituted is normal. We know that, but constantly run from that fact or pretend is smaller than it is.

It is normal that trauma for exited women is extreme and highly complex – usually worse than armed forces returning from the frontline.

Our trauma is usually lifelong. Our trauma is made invisible.

I have had enough of being surrounded by most cultures ignoring the pain, grief and terror that are the foundation stones of our trauma.

It is ignored because there is nothing natural about why the prostituted live inside extreme trauma.

All our trauma is made by the hate and violence planted into the prostituted by punters, sex trade profiteers and all those who condone their actions.

Our trauma was forced into us, we were never to blame or creators of our own wounds.

We must name the cause of our trauma – that would a start to getting justice that may heal some of our trauma.

Name that all punters can say no to consuming the prostituted.

That buying the prostituted is never a need, never a human right – it is always a want, it always done from greed and entitlement.

Stop making excuses for punters.

These men are serial rapists, are capable of mental/physical/sexual torture.

These men see no human in the prostituted, and so can kill her with no remorse.

Punters are criminals, so stop excusing them.

Stop saying that prostitution can somehow be made safer, or at the least safe enough to be not thought about.

Prostitution can never be safe for the prostituted – all that counts to sex trade profiteers is that punters feel safe and hidden from the public gaze, for that increases the profit.

There is no parts of prostitution that cares about the mental and physical safety of the prostituted.

There is no part of prostitution that prevents punters from violence – unless he has not enough money or his time has run out.

Punters know their violence can tidied away, or if seen reframed as kink or adult fun.

Our trauma is made of many years of countless punters doing unspeakable acts to our bodies and minds.

I write to express some of that unspeakable.

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