I have often wondered why this is not talked about more as the trend the last couple years has been to talk about ending the slave trade. Join this group! Join that group! Stop the trafficking! I hear the cries.
The little girl in me that walks into the petrol station to pay for my diesel and winces each time I pass the magazine racks. Naked women in all of their brazen glory with proportions too awkward to tell me it is natural, reminds me that we are just two dimensional pictures to be looked at. We are cheap. A few quid for a magazine.
Stop the Traffik! Real Men Don’t Buy Girls!
They say… but then I walk past a sign for Diamonds or For Your Eyes Only in my city and I know that’s not true… men buy girls all the time..
Not For Sale they say! Care about justice! Change the world! Get involved.
But we are for sale. How can joining a group change the reality. Women everywhere are for sale. There is still a demand and we are sold at a cheap price.. our worth up for grabs to the lowest bidder.
We walk down the street and men call out names.
Degrading horrible names.
Men stand at the bar and rate us with their wingman in tow.
Every cat call’s shout we die a little death inside.
S.T.O.P it! Can’t you see I am a person?
Not in this world with this poison you’re not.
Love(146) me! Our hearts cry! We want your protection and care and concern. But the poison is deep and real love can’t grow there because of it. Maybe even the one you love has made you into his game. Love isn’t real, it is a commodity to be used and disposed of with no grasp of what it is.
So they eat their poison and the roots grow deeper and we are all stuck. Nameless faceless girls. Nameless faceless women.
But I have a name.. She has a name.. can’t you see?