My eyes are watching the green numbers
On the wall
Urging them to change faster
Urging time to move quicker.
The numbness of my body to movements
Sparks no concern to him.

A limp whore is one
Who just won't get paid.

Low watt lighting burns
A vast contrast to the darkness of the room
I stumble down the hallway
My stomach protesting to such awkward movements.
Forcing myself onto the seat
Compelling my legs to revive under the heat of water.

No one noticed the switch
I carried in my pocket.

Rough, cold sobs send shock waves
Through my naked body
My hand remains steady poised above the cream
Of my leg, mid-strike
The serrated teeth aching for another taste of silken flesh.
Red beads slowly pushing their way through the small gash.

I use pain to overcome
The memories of unwelcome prostitution.

Grayscale images flash across
My line of sight
As the blood mixes with the water
Before swirling down the drain.
Third times the charm and the silver beast is sated
Warm breath escapes my lips as
I raise my white flag to darkness.