“…We both were on drugs and on the streets, but I didn’t care because I felt complete.
He said if I loved him, I would prostitute for money, so I agreed.
That was all it took and he was off full speed.
He beat me and abused me,
And told me if I tried to leave, he would kill me.
I was forced to sleep with many men; I only sleep every now and then.
I have been all over the state; just to be sold at any rate.

Once he beat me until I was almost dead, that’s when I knew I had to use my head.
I told my dad what was going on, and I told him “Jimmy” had a gun.
My dad said when he found me I was close to death,
My head was busted open and my body was a mess….”

-an excerpt from a poem written by a teenage girl