When even the most honest of emotions turns into a commodity

You look so healthy, though you're pale and thin. But I have seen that face and I'm not impressed by make-up. Besides I don't even like the stench of our perfume. But the smell of your sex made me feel more alive than any drug could do. My war wages on. When the most honest of emotions turns to a commodity this can't be a surprise.
This can't be. No. But I never stopped demanding, I am more thirsty than ever. If this shall make my heart the loneliest: so be it.
This city doesn't have the space I thought it would have for me. The escape I hoped for. I have no language left to speak of all the pent-up inside. I have drained my words. Emptied them like the cum on my hands. A farewell to those who left and a sorry smile to my victims. Victims. Victims. Victim.
Using the free market or used by it? Our lives have become commodified and our money has become our blood. Buy everything you want - there not much else to do, is there? When did you feel your heart beat the last time?