Isabella Molalla Whore ❤️

About Philadelphia

But real talk—it ain’t all glam. Gets dark, like “Children of Men” dark. “Pull my finger!”—that goofy line, but imagine a whore laughin’ through tears. Some nights, they’re scared, cold, alone—breaks my damn heart. I’m over here yellin’, “Why ain’t we helpin’ ‘em?!” Then—bam!—surprised me when Lola said she loved the freedom. Freedom? Girl, you wild! Guess it’s her truth, tho—messy, raw, real.

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