“It will be easy money,” they say with a sigh, a path chosen hastily, a soul’s silent cry.
I am a girl with empty eyes and a full bag, a full chest but not much to the rest.
Skin and bones, a rag doll, a gift from god, a gift from mom.
I could be an actress of the night, my body could be the play.
Can it still be mine if I give it away?
In my hands I could hold, shiny keys, big girl toys.
But in their hands I am held,
My head, my soul, my body will forever lie in their bed.
It could be easy money, an easy trade,
Trading my heart for coins, my dreams bought and sold.