It's been a minute since I have written. The world is still turning and life continues to drag on, and I can't quite figure out if I will be here at the end of all of this.
Some days it seems like this nightmare is never going to end. Having too much time on your hands can be a very dangerous thing. My life is difficult and trying, and I have no one to blame but myself. Trust me, that does not make it any easier. Living with constant frustration, having no control over the simplest things, not being to walk to the store to pick up a phone, or just the simple act of being alone. There is NO privacy in prisons. Guards paw through your things at will, pat downs, cell searches, record phone calls, sit facing forward during visits, not being able to choose who you want to live with, having to shower with 10 or 20 other inmates at a time, stand in line for food at meal times, stand in line to go to the canteen, stand in line for a phone call. There is a never-ending line here for everything, and you never seem to be at the beginning of it. Ask permission to use the restroom, ask permission to talk, ask permission to be a human being...
It is like standing at the edge of a cliff, knowing that at any moment you will fall and kill yourself, but you cannot move off the edge.
Now try doing all of this in a men's institution with breasts.
How do you create something positive from this? How do you learn to love in this environment? How do you feel loved in here? Who really cares?
Unless you have experienced this yourself, you will never know the depths of despair that one achieves in this place. Sometimes, it's overwhelming. How do you write your family and friends, and tell them all of this? How do you get them to really understand? Because I think that is all any of us in here really want is for someone to understand what we feel and to tell us it WILL be all right.
You know, if you can get through this, there is nothing that life can ever throw at you that will devastate you again. The trick is getting through this with your sanity. How do you retain some semblance of sanity when you are in the insane asylum?
I have found that GOD in whatever form he takes for each individual does not exist in prison, and that is when you know there is no hope left to cling to. This is one of those bad days!
Rapidly firing your hateful words
Never missing their mark
Piercing, shredding, tearing
My soul silently screaming
I will not allow myself to say
Too fragile to be alone
Smile plastered to my face
like the bullets did not matter,
ignore the pain,
pretending it never happened
from MY invisible wounds
as YOU shred MY soul
feed it to the pigeons.
2017 sep 18
2017 mar 31
2017 feb 22
2016 may 4
2015 jul 3
2015 mar 31