Poetry Room:

I’m a sex worker

create collage art also

interested in family

genealogy to understand who

I came from who I can become

I’m a sex worker

a parent also

constantly bordering the line of

normalcy hiding double life

obsessed with my children’s emotional

vocabulary conscious of the toll

that having a parent who is a sex worker can be

I’m a sex worker my kids know

I go away on business

occasionally I’m a sex worker

live with the ghosts also

my past taking shape in those clients

bear resemblance to assailants

I’m in sex work and

discriminated against racially

sexually harassed by those who claim to be

advocacy of our industry

I’m a sex worker get checked consistently

for sexual health purposes I’m

a sex worker

question my worth trying

through heaven’s gates