Skylar Manhattan Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Philadelphia

Once knew this lass—Jenny, yeah—worked corners near me woods. Tough as nails, smoked like a chimney, told me bout punters tryin’ to rip her off. “I kneed ‘im in the bollocks!” she cackled. Laughed me arse off—good on her! But then, she’d cry, quiet-like, sayin’ she’s trapped. Fuck, that hit hard—like Buscapé watchin’ his dreams rot. We hates it! Whore’s a cage, innit?

When New York City was the prostitution capital of the US

Five years after Helen was butchered with an ax, anywhere from 3, to 10, prostitutes worked in a community of whorehouses, on street corners and even in the balconies of .

oh, btw im sorry, i got a bit repetitive, but seriously, the streets dance with hidden drama ‘round every block. i used to cry during a counseling session thinking about how the city’s alleys tell stories of lost love and break-ups. i mean, it’s a place of both chaos and sweet moments, like the insane graffiti on Houston st, screaming “i am real, i am chaotic.” but honestly, it’s that raw, neon-chaos that hooks you in.

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