Dignity 💃

-


She counts her hours the way others count blessings,
quietly, without expectation of either returning the favor.

The night leans on her shoulders like an overworked customer,
and she keeps smiling, not because it is kind, but because it is required.

Somewhere between “next” and “later,” her body learns to answer even when her mind stops asking why.

At dawn, she folds herself back into ordinary clothes
like nothing ever needed to be survived.

_____________________________________________

Author's Note
This piece was inspired by a hard-hitting documentary that offered a glimpse into the realities, resilience, and often-unseen struggles of sex workers. Moved by its portrayal of lives that are frequently misunderstood or reduced to stereotypes, I was inspired to create this work as a reflection on dignity, survival, and the humanity behind the labels.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

From Dusk Till Dawn

-
Image
It was just another night at Westin’s Colony, a residential area comprising around fifty houses, nestled away from the hustle and bustle of the town. People lay awake on their beds, some reading, some watching television, some tucking their little ones in bed and shushing them to sleep, and some casting occasional glances at the bedroom window that faced the street. In some time, a sharp noise, accompanied by a shrilly voice, was heard all over the neighbourhood, “Clang! Clang! Clang! Ayo Goka!” And strangely, like clockwork, the lights went out, the sounds died down, and a blanket of silence descended over the locality. Sebu’s footsteps echoed softly on the pavement as he moved through the colony. The chilly night air wrapped around him like a familiar blanket, and the rhythmic tap of his bamboo stick against the metal gates became the neighborhood’s lullaby. A tall, lanky figure, clad in a beige uniform and a heavy jacket, strolled the streets with a bamboo stick in hand....
Read more

Not a Pleaser!

-
Image
Oh, please! Stop.   I'm done—   I’m done with your empty words.   Your praises,   I shan't sing,   Your petty ego,   I shan't fuel.   Let’s face it—   The truth,   The bitter, hard truth.   No more sweeping   Under the carpet.   You’re not even half the person   You claim to be.   Narcissistic, pompous,   Retarded and cold,   Self-centered, self-obsessed.   Through your eyes,   I will no longer look—   Not at myself,   But at the shadow you tried to cast.   For I am ME.   My self-image is no longer dictated   By your toxic beliefs.   That’s enough of your gaslighting, mate.   Let’s call it quits.   Your relentless gloating,   I won’t hear it—   You’re an empty vessel, ...
Read more

Sharing Is Caring

-
Image
My dear, It’s a selfish, selfish world out there. It truly is. Where relationships are evaluated Like shares in the stock market. Love is calculated, Responses measured, Reactions contemplated. Nothing is spontaneous anymore. Every move carries an invisible label That reads: 'Proceed with caution'. Gone are the days Of fighting over candies, Sharing what was left of the ice cream cone, Begging for a turn on the bicycle. Back when every war Ended over a favourite snack, A cartoon on television, Or silent laughter under the same blanket. Back when anger lasted only minutes, And love never needed language. Time changes everything, my dear. You realize it has The moment you pause And look back. You see it In the quieter phone calls, The delayed replies, The conversations that now sound careful Instead of effortless. You see it When harmless discussions Turn into calculations. When a few numbers Can wound relationships more deeply Than years of distance ever could. So no...
Read more