Goodbye to Soho

I spent too many years in Soho, I know the good and bad side.

I know it has the best Italian food and coffee in London.

I know I have many Hollywood pictures from Soho.

I know it is a haven for live jazz.

But it still the place of nightmares, place of self-harming – place that reminds me I never anything but a whore.

So this a goodbye post to some of nightmares – maybe then Soho can just my Italian deli instead.

As a young child, I would run away to Soho. My school was off Marylebone Road, and I walked from there to heart of sleaze land.

Soho had not been cleaned – the sex trade was more blatant.

As a child, I thought I belong to the world of sleaze and self-hating.

Soho was a training pad for my future as a whore, as incest was giving me instructions on how act as a whore.

Soho and my stepdad sexually abusing were hand in glove.

My stepdad work in the heart of Soho as an advertising director.

He took me out as his whore-princess – showing off to embarrassed Italian waiters.

In his Soho office, I was paraded in front of his staff, all knowing that I was his step-daughter, as he bragged he would fuck me later.

I learnt to smile through his bragging, I learnt to be silent as screaming was drowning me.

Often as a child, I left in the Soho streets as my mother went to see my stepdad.

My mother told me stand still and not to speak to anyone.

The worst advice ever.

I was became a perfect whore aged 8 or 9, as men drove past asking how much, or saying come to my flat.

I lost hope, so came close to entering a car – knowing I would raped, maybe murdered.

But at least my rapist would not pretend that he love me or that he saw me as a human.

An American tourist stopped me getting in the car – seeing the truth that I a child who lost.

As he try to speak with me, asking where my mother – I had no words, maybe some swear words, as I could say my mother was the fire I was running from.

I know in my waking nightmares, Soho was a major factor is stealing my hope, stealing my childhood.

Soho made me becoming a whore my fate.

How do I forgive or forget that?

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