Kaya

In the market of flesh, she sells her soul.

She isn’t like every other whore that lives in this brothel’s uncomforting corners; she is a goddess.

She might have had an usual past but she had an unusual name.

They call her Kaya.

Like all others, she too was sold off to this hell at an age she doesn’t remember.

She disguises her cries in her loud, annoying laughter.

She likes to draw to herself.

Triangles overlapping each other could be considered as those mountains which she shall never see; a uniform hut made of squares and rhombuses that she shall never own and she draws dirty faces of men who shall never marry her.

She gets sold to weak, insecure men who cannot find love nor get proper erections; so they try to buy both.

She despises being a whore; but does she have a choice?

Whores don’t have choices, they have hopes.

They can only hope that the man who uses them tonight won’t smell pungent.

She can only hope that someday some man will pay money to talk to her.

She doesn’t hope for a prince charming; ’cause she has known and seen what men really are inside closed dark rooms, she knows what they can do when nobody is watching. She knows that deep inside, everyone is bad at heart.

She knows that if her brothel was a suffocating jail then the world outside was nothing more than a large prison for her; at least she knows her way around this brothel. At least she has an identity here.

Nobody needs to force her to stay.

She doesn’t want to be rescued.

She has made this her home.

This whorehouse is her temple and its every guest her deity.

Her name was Kaya, and she would whisper it again and again into the ears of strangers who would buy her body.

“Kaya”

“Remember my name, Kaya”

“Kaya”

She would say again and again, softly into their ears.

Maybe to haunt them forever in their sleep or perhaps to assure her own self that every man who made love to her shall remember her name.

In the market of flesh, she sells her soul.

She isn’t like every other whore that lives in this brothel’s uncomforting corners; she is a goddess.

She might have had an usual past but she had an unusual name.

They call her Kaya.