Another prostitution poem by me, and it's sort of on the same subject, but not really. For one thing, I'm sure this is one of the few optimistic poems about being a slut!

I used to be a proud, miserable virgin

But then I let go
Of everything.
I sold my thoughts
My feelings
For cheap-
For free.
Stripped myself
Of grudges and fears
Parading around
For all to see.
My inner demons
Became laughable
Harlequins
And I painted my face
With rogue,
Powder,
And a natural smile.

Now I am a happy prostitute.