Road to Prostitution (fiction) by Claudia Typhoon

I know that when my nostrils fill with the noxious and powerful odor of cat piss that this is death. you may think that I had a poor relationship with my father, I did for a while, but Im pretty sure that my male parent loves me, as uncomfortable as it makes me to think about. I know what you are thinking, 'he loved you a little too much?', no you fucking perv, this about the death of a soul made up of many small deaths. the paper cuts and slip of knives that leads to the hemorrhaging of self. it took a day that started with a bleach load in the back of my throat and ended with a different cock squeezing out its elements onto my face and mucus up my snot-producing olfactory face-holes to realize that the sort of soul death that I was exchanging to deaden my emotions and avoid their consequences was not worth its cost. if I was to feel such shit after becoming a slip & slide, then I should start charging, my rent would have been paid ages ago. $250 hand-jobs seemed to wax the wheels before and laughter ensued, I'd rather make that again than sell my tears in exchange for guilt to soften my fears. this giving up of myself is all I have left. the hollow is easier to fill to the brim than to feel. emote he says, emote because you should, I want you to feel and I inspire you to love passionately, you will fear to feel. I always fear. I know that a woman made when the rivers flow to mounds below. my hills and pillow-loves. to caress, to possess. these are me and not for you. but I am tricked into giving and giving and giving and giving and giving and nothing. I have nothing to give and will eat not a thread to ask to be good, to ask to be well, to ask to be. the floor inspires me to caress it but I cannot allow myself to touch an unknown filth, the filth is me and I desire not to touch myself. when I do I think of you, your soft lips, your fingertips. I bargain for a sale and I give dignity for free. please inspire me to be more than me. I've started to play the day away. I will save my smiles for you. the lips I possess, bearded or make-up applied will wait to kiss your lips. you pay the price at which I want to sell. let me bargain for your kind, let me earn your pride. my back will not suffice as a vehicle of this, so stand shall I.