Woman of the Street

I am waiting for my next client, there is still blood dripping from the bite marks the previous one left for me with the hundred rupees, but I don't want to leave this room, This is the only place i feel wanted, there isn't any place else i would rather be, but here. Some can hurt my body,  same may hope to make love. But nobody shall have my heart nor my pain Because I wonder if i have it. Did I sold it with my body? I doubt it, who is so kind to buy a women's pain alone, They won't hesitate to buy the heart, for they can eat it,  but pain? There isn't any emotion strong enough to do that. Lust may sometimes fake to buy pain along with my body, but usually, get deceived to find the pain left alone afterwards
I am not expecting kindness from anyone, but I hope they switch off the light, so that i don't want to see their faces, and imagine that its a nightmare, and scream at the top of my voice and it all ends as quickly as possible. So that I can fall asleep, breathing the pungent smell in my bed born from the dampness of the mixture of sweat and their seamen, but not my tears ...........

(photo courtesy http://www.bughouse.com/artwork/120/r-johnson-art/photography/personal-work/the-prostitute)