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This poem is based on the documentary "Very Young Girls". |
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Reflections of a Very Young Girl The sunset is always more soothing for those who look forward to the night But I didn’t I knew what night would bring And I shivered Shivered in a balmy 75 degree night Knowing It was the knowing that made it worse Knowing that it was time to work To “put up or shut up” as he said My pimp He was real smart Or so he told himself Smart enough to “make this money” I always thought he was smart enough not to get fucked And let the others fuck for him That’s the kind of intelligence I wish I had But I don’t I dropped out of school at twelve When the bruises my mom inflicted became too much to hide But the social workers were too busy with other cases to take mine Maybe I wasn’t morose enough I was always a happy child Maybe our neighborhood was too scary for some fully educated college grad to stop in Or maybe I was like every other girl in the hood A commodity made more valuable by the scar “Good girls aren’t worth shit.” He was right But I wasn’t one of them My mom taught me that No I was something else Right now I was someone who had to “make this money” I hated hearing him say that Mostly because I knew he was right I had to support myself And if I didn’t work, I didn’t eat But worse if I didn’t work I didn’t eat and I’d get beaten Those two things didn’t go together Have you ever been kicked in an empty stomach? I have I needed a drink That’s one thing that my pimp, used to be my boyfriend, always had “For the nerves” You’d think I would have been out here long enough You know, to not have nerves To not feel To not need the anesthetic To be able to get on my knees Or lift my skirt Or to kiss amorously A stranger A paying customer But I did I still needed the pain killer The pain both mental and physical would leave me If I had a drink Well, not one Many “Just don’t be a sloppy, bitch.” I could hold my liquor Enough to remember how to get most men off quickly Quick was a necessity You didn’t want to be with a trick all night One It didn’t make money And if it didn’t make money it didn’t make sense Two A young impressionable girl might get it into her head that she’s special I’d done that before Two years ago on my fifteenth birthday I’d thought I was special (briefly) That one of my regulars might really care That he might take me away from here Like Julia Roberts’ character What a dumb ass movie It’d been my favorite But I was a “dumb ass bitch” See, my pimp agrees And he knows me He’d been sniffing around before I was a teen He was a regular part of my community A predator Wiser, older He was a real man He even had a “real woman” and a good job I had this But I guess he kept his promises Said he’d take me away from a broken home And he had Said he’d take care of me And he was I mean as long as I did my part "We're a team, right?" Right Said he’d always love me And he does He spends more time on me than any of his other girls So I know he loves me And one day he’ll take me away from even this I feel it I know it He told me so But right now I’ve got to make him proud Got to make him happy Got to find someone who “Wanna date?” Educate Yourself: see the movie “Very Young Girls, a documentary of prostitution in New York. |
: Aria Total Displayed: 1 |
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