His shadow, her truth 

His blurred face, her exposed breasts. 

Her face, his secret.

They know so much, but who do you talk about when you say they?

They entertain. They cater. They serve.

They meet you at your darkness. They listen to your needs.

They are closer to you than you think. They know more about your promise than you think.

In the darkness, they offer freedom, a refuge from sudden urges, an itch, and intense desire.

Your freedom in exchange for their safety, a price – compensation.

And despite their safety, despite their kindness. They are sentenced to the dark. An embodiment of others’ shame, they are outcasted. Their stories are written for them, and their duty is seen as a disservice, a setback for all. But I ask, when the sun goes down, who seeks them? Who needs them? 

Your neighbor, a stranger on the bus, your best friend, your lover. Forced to abide by standards set by their own, forced to cast their perceived shortcomings to those undeserving. 

But who do we shame? Who do we mock? Why?

Is it because we know? We recognize their necessity? A crucial piece in a broken machine, a flawed system using secrets to remain afloat. 

And when others march, do they march for them? Are their needs considered needs? Who is the judge, who gets to decide?

And as you fix your nose upwards, as you pash your judgment, as you use them as examples for your cautionary tales.

Do you wonder why something deemed so shameful still exists, why they prevail, and why they never go away?

Do you wonder who ensures they, too, can rest their head and see another day? 

They know more than you think. They are closer to you than you want to admit. Sentenced to represent shadows although their truth could light up others lives.

But who do you talk about when you say they?