Them, without a name

I shouldn't think it, but...
Sometimes I wonder, “does it hurt them to make love without being loved?”
In their eyes I've seen pain, an emptiness like mine
And with every frivolous penetration of their body, another piece of their heart breaks

Sometimes I wonder, “do they remember the names of all their lovers?”
I know no little girl dreams of becoming a toy for adults
And that as they walk through their cities, they remember the places where their intimacy was exposed and their bodies mistreated

Sometimes I wonder, “who stole their innocence?”
I can’t imagine what it feels like to feel heat in the body without warmth in the soul
Without, at the end, a sweet gaze and a tender kiss making them feel protected, loved

Sometimes I wonder, “what do they feel when men stare at their hips or breasts on the street?”
That they vaguely remember how their bodies were touched, and none had the intention to care for it
That they watch the sweat run down their inner thighs
While heartless men curse their name

Sometimes I wonder, “do they still believe in love?”
After having felt the evil and corruption of so many men
I think it’s normal that they’ve lost their faith in a higher being
If a beast thirsty for my body pulled my hair instead of caressing it
I too would ask myself every night if there’s a God up there

Sometimes I wonder, “do they feel beautiful with their surgeries?”
They modify their bodies to please their abusers, to satisfy the spectators
I think sometimes, when they look in the mirror, they don’t recognize the woman they see
And I don’t believe they ever will, for it’s the twisted reflection of the desire of their audience and clients

Sometimes I wonder, “do they still wait for a prince charming?”
After allowing many toads to kiss the sacred parts of their body
Maybe they don’t even see themselves as a person anymore
Because the slimy kiss of a toad leaves a horrible feeling in the heart

Sometimes I wonder, “do these mourning souls still have hope?”
They may forgive, but they do not forget
Even if their soul and spirit are clean, their body carries the mark of many destroyers
And men do not exonerate those from whom they’ve extracted pleasure

Pastors and religious leaders of both sexes wouldn’t go near them, for they would stain their disgraceful image
And if the Lord’s spokespeople wouldn’t draw near these women, who will bring them the good news?
What woman, if not a daring lover? What man, if not one disciplined in self-control?
From what god will they learn to love prostitutes? If their gods are white men

...

Thank God, Jesus was not a white religious leader with a reputation to protect
He did come close to them.