she’s the most ambitious of the working girls,
but the money means nothing,
not when there’s all those stories, all those words to be consumed,
she just hopes she’s not too tired to read,
a night’s work can leave her too tired to dream


she closes her eyes,
as his hot breath stings her cheek, she thinks to herself
“did Virginia endure this? Will I ever meet My Romeo, My Rochester, My Heathcliff, My Love?”
In the meantime she lies down,
eyes fixed on the ceiling above

The clients come and go,
but the stories they stay
of hardship and poverty, and the escape of it all
she hopes that her story will come to life one day
maybe she’ll even smile one day

“And yet to every bad there is a worse”
she thinks to herself
why should she despair, is she not fortunate?
an income, a brain, a respect for oneself
some people don’t have respect for oneself

The life of a working girl
is short lived it seems
caused by a lack of ambition, a lack of confidence
a lack of dreams
but she’s the most ambitious of the working girls
and she dares to dream