my walk took me to this place, a brisk act of need, pockets bare, stomach aching from hunger, in the middle of the night again,
I looked at men in business suits as my way up or out of this elude act,
I fought to be, to exist in this cruel word, my destiny was not set, a course was giving in this moment in time,
I was dumped founded, the big city meant glamour to me, a countries boys expectation's,
I thought that my face was a producers dream, how wrong I was, here hundred of guys looked liked me, that is when my job skills took me adrift, swaying my way into clubs, with boyish charm’s,
my handsome features took me off the street’s, I had regular travelers that wanted me only,
it wasn’t easy, I now knew how prostitutes felt at this moment, just a brush up was all it took an I knew to follow my john in the bath room or board room, anywhere, kissing wasn’t apart of it, only blow job’s, ass fucking and some time’s as I did best sticking my penis in there mouth or ass.
Married men where my money maker, their sexually need took them by storm, undecided I said to myself,
My highlight of my life was the car’s I drove and apartment I lived in, bought an paid for, yes,
looking in the mirror, I saw my soul, my dreams taken, my hopes where put on the back burner, afraid of life’s twist again, hungry, sleeping on the streets, I was afraid, audition’s was all but a thought
My boiling point, was it’s need in me to want them, want their embrace, I looked forward to it all, when my phone rang,
I lit flickering candles, made a platter of cheese and cracker’s, they confided in me, in their eye’s they looked at me as a psychologist , an listened I did,
I awoke alone, to hundreds of dollars on my night stand, my boyish body was worth this much, and men desired it, paid for it,
Sundays the church doors opened absolution sought, as a confession was made, with a beginning on the out side,
Join me as we travel together on the road called "Aging." I will be sharing my personal experiences with you and offer ideas on how we can better navigate the complex byways of our older years. Grief, healing, generations, ancestors, and more.
On February 20, 2003, pyrotechnics at a rock club in West Warwick, RI set off a devastating fire that roared through the crowded club, killing 100 people and injuring hundreds more. Gina Russo was one of the survivors, and she retells her harrowing e
