Nobody's Whore

In this arcursed town I once called home

There is a tower for the damned

Where my predessesor now lives

In the drawing room

She sits beside the piano
Her bare legs cold upon the dusty wooden floor
The boards of which have remained untouched for some time

She is quiet alone......


She used to dream,

She spent her days glancing beyond the stars
The grazes from the carpet on her knees tell us that much...

Her long orban hair sweeping down covering her "perfect" face

Her regulars always strike the same stale, bargain
How could she refuse...
It is not her place to decide, for it is her corpse that hangs from the noose if she dare refuse....
In exchange for giving herself to them...........they whisper sweet words of deceit and take it upon themselves to sweep her off her feet

Whilst
Force feeding their lovers the words they only wish were true
["Only you"....]

She cannot forsake her profession
For each chilling burn was worth the spontaneous thrill

And so she sits, her denim skirt ripped  
Her chipped manicured nails pressing firmly into her already bruised thighs
Each stab of guilt is nothing compared to how soft her complexion has suddenly become, How toned and supple her legs are now and how much thiner she looks in the mirror .

Each time her clients part
She denies their lives beyond her lair to the women they are truley bound to

For each time she fools herself that each cruel word that escapes their lips is indeed genuine
She delights in thinking that they are imprisoned in here

Their thoughts only dwelling upon her....

The candle upon the music stand burns out far before her head finally rests on her pillow

She lays awake at night
Counting down the hours
Even though she knows it all too well

.......Her days are numbered

Without her beloved companions
She is nothing...

When she is freed from this land of
-Misplaced trust
And
-Ill mannered gentlemen
She will know
The Truth
Yes...she will know what he was hiding behind that satisfied grin...and the twinkling(s) in his eyes

Regardless of the madness his enimies have driven him to

He has no justification for his lustfull addiction

She has her things packed....but she will not leave this house of sins,
Jealousy and her hate of lust, in witch she had invested all of her trust

The men who with their last breath are chocking her name
Are never worthy of such a woman

She does not deserve such majesty

For the rest of her days
Although she does not know it she will be dreaming of those she cannot have

When we all know what it is that she truly seeks

She belongs to no man
But she is to only give herself to all who ask nicely
And only dream of waking to the glimmer in their eyes each morning

For now she is not dead meirly sleeping...
Her mind, so fickel but by no means frail
She is nobody's whore
But oh, how she looks out of the window and sighs
She can recall how she danced revealing the dimension's of her firm body and felt no shame
But all she feels now is the fulfilment of her ever inquisitive mind,
The hate that boils and swells from within herself for the men that  she used to favor

[And how she was their favorate to use]
How her knowledge has grown heavier,How she is a very different girl today

[.......acceptance]

Leaving all the money she has earned benith the piano stool

She does not charge the men she so desperately adores

She escapes this hell in witch she must spend the rest of her days

Wondering her lonesome path, ever inticed by all she has ever known

Still on the endless search

For what she desires most