Poem: Poor Wives

This poem touches both sides of my life experience... therefore my activist/advocacy efforts include both Trans rights and Sex Worker rights issues.

POOR WIVES

With open wounds still weeping

Like the child that screams inside,

Shattered dreams of innocence

The wreckage of my pride.

Disintegrating options strip

My soul and body bare,

Standing on the corner of

This working girl's despair.

Selling off my sex to all those

Nameless faceless lies,

Spreading legs and misery

Why can't they hear my cries?

With blackened eyes and broken hopes

A life that's filled with strife,

Cruising 'round the block of hate

Your fetish mocks my life.

Forced into playing skin roulette

How else can we get by?

Outside the norm and looking in

No one cares if we're to die.

Nightmares filled with rapes and

All the beatings she survives,

Bruised and battered matters not

Trans hookers make poor wives.

Mikayla Cadger