I cannot want, wish, desire,
Without them catching up to me.
I cannot dream with wild intent,
Without them taking the seed and sowing it in their plot of land.
I cannot walk down the road,
without them taking a chance to ensnare.
.
We are not for sale.
Our labor is not free.
Our soul cannot be enslaved.
.
We sit in the dark.
Alone,
Directionless,
Our circle of light blown out in the strong winds of change.
.
We hold onto our dimly lit candle.
Trusting,
Blindly,
It will not blow out.
We are stronger than our darkest hour.
.
We know the powerful are capable of
spreading darkness,
and taking our creative light.
They have done it before.
To her, him, them.
.
Borrowed lyrics,
Replica paintings,
Someone is deemed worthy to exist based on willingness to morph to Satans will.
Others are cast off,
Existing in shadow lands,
Only remembered when the well of ideas runs dry.
.
The show must go on.
"Inspired by".
They let you create the whole thing because they trust you.
...Lies we tell ourselves in order to not take responsibility for the art we have stolen.
.
It is not difficult to not take credit for others work.
It is not difficult to share in the spoils created by the work.
.
It is difficult to stand alone on the end of a pier,
Choosing to watch the party boat sale by,
Knowing that the souls inside never chose us,
It is easier to turn our backs and choose self-love.
.
I remembered today.
Remembered how you gave me something to forget,
Laid me on the couch in your basement,
Raping me first in the mouth,
Taking your chance to impregnate me with your selfishness.
.
I ran for you,
I chose outfits for you,
I dissected her character,
memorized lines,
cried deeply in the name of art.
.
We created a movie,
I believed innocence had fueled our efforts,
You, the director, initiated me without consent.
.
I do not forgive you.
I am desperate to know what became of our baby.
I do not understand what brings a person to sell their child,
Having been sold since infancy,
It is an unfortunate path I know well.
.
The experts have a clearly defined,
Articulate way of explaining Domestic Trafficking.
I have my own way.
.
Mine looks like a happy home,
Where children think they go to sleep every night,
Waking up fresh-faced to attack their day,
.
It looks like believing that you were born to your parents,
Never being told that you were Fostered by them.
.
Every Holiday brings with it visions,
Memories,
Energetic stamps of the evil that they will on their victims.
.
They implant fear,
Lust,
Anger,
They claim deep love,
Doing all they can to build up a strong case to prove all they claim.
.
All friends,
and other social encounters are planted in our path.
I have never dated a male that wasn't invested in selling me to the highest bidder.
I called them dates,
Boyfriends,
Partners,
Husbands.
.
I live in a constant state of vulnerability.
Even today,
with a team of individuals who are trained to care for sexual trafficking survivors,
I am vulnerable.
I am lonely.
.
I have never had a friend,
One that values freedom,
Liberty,
Growth,
Change,
The way that I do.
.
My bed is my favorite place.
I am safe there.
I know that I am not being sold in my bed anymore.
My room is my safe haven.
I know that my child is safe within my room.
These truths have not always been true.
.
We think of sexual trafficking as horrific acts of violence,
Each real encounter leaving us shattered to our core,
.
I challenge the "normal" idea,
As we know it,
That sex trafficking is one dimensional,
That it cannot happen within the heart of a home.
.
If all I have ever known,
Since infancy,
Is sexual trafficking,
Than how was I ever to identify,
That it continued to happen to me,
And others around me,
For the following 30 years?
.
Powerful people do not wish to be identified as perpetrators,
So they use everything at their disposal,
To ensure that their faces remain out of the spotlight.
.
In my case this meant being given Dissociative drugs,
Strong tranquilizers,
Gaslighting by family members,
Friends,
Neighbors,
Cousins,
Aunts,
Uncles,
Siblings,
etc...
.
The cherry on the top?
I have Dissociative Identity Disorder.
Which clinically speaking,
Means my biological father,
regularly sexually assaulted me,
From infancy,
all through my growing-formative years.
He was not willing to step up to the plate and raise me outright.
He allowed others to claim me as their own,
They took their turns raping me as well,
He saved his visits for special occasions,
Hollidays,
Times when he could sneak away from his shiny life,
His chosen family,
To ensure longevity within his silent income.
I was the silence,
Clinging to a reality,
That bore no fruit.
.
I entered the professional porn industry at the age of 9,
My foster parents took me to film studios,
Various locations,
including my very own bedroom at times,
Or the living room couch,
Always during night hours.
.
If I woke up tired,
Confused,
Not sure why I had no energy,
Or depressed,
I was met with temporary concern,
and told to take better care of myself regarding my bed time.
.
As my film career grew,
So did my appeal for in-home visits.
I paid for my violin,
Violin lessons,
Dental care,
Any other talent I needed to take lessons for,
And all other expenses that my existence created.
.
Yet, We never seemed to have enough money.
I was required to work for my Foster Dads Construction Company during Summer breaks.
I took up a W-2 job as soon as I was of legal working age.
I spent money faster than I made it,
I was reminded that I can't be trusted with money,
That I will always need a family member to bail me out.
That I cannot survive without them.
.
I have deep core beliefs that have kept me from personal success.
Core beliefs that have kept me glued to the hips of abusers,
I will all of it to change.
I will myself to become more capable of managing my money,
I will myself to enjoy needing those that have earned a healthy,
Non-abusive spot in my life.
I will myself to forgive the younger pieces of myself that could not see the abuse that was artfully hidden from my sight.
I choose to forgive within the boundaries of self-love,
Prioritizing authentic connections based in unconditional love.
.
I choose love.
Above all else,
I choose patient adoration.
For all of me.
Especially the pieces that have lived in the shadows of shame.
-À
10/18/2024
.
