The Process of Pain

As the frost etched on the window

Signifying another gruesome season

I lie on the bloody dirty mattress

My wine in silence

Pounding against my cheeks

Throbbing against my throat

I can only let a whisper escape from my lips

My body writhes in burning pain from being used as an ashtray

Around me is complete dark dampness

Waiting for my body to succumb to eternal sleep

I was hoping it would

For I can feel my body wither at the destructive force of inhumanity

Suddenly, I hear the booming of feet across the floor upstairs

My heart works its damndest

But it isn't the songbird it once was

I see a cruel shadow in the doorway

It scampers down the wooden staircase

I try to get away, but I have no strength left in me

A woman full of anger emerges from the shadow cloak

She is clutching a needle and candle in her sweaty fist

My shirt is pulled up to reveal my belly as she straddles me

Making sure that I cannot escape

She puts the tip of the needle into the flame

Its light revealed the sadism in her wretched face

She forces the searing needle to my belly

I scream and cry to the best of my ability

This torturous act feels like it goes on forever

She rises to her feet stretching a grin onto her face

She chuckles to herself as she walks back upstairs

I hunch over to see what she has done to me

To my horror, the awful message read:

"I'M A PROSTITUTE AND PROUD OF IT!"