WHEN IT RAINS, IT POURS

The rough roads travelled... the obstacles and struggles faced with... the hurt and pain... all of those things can be seen vividly as I sit back and reflect on my life, and this is my reflection...

I hardly knew my father, this is not based on the fact that he was in and out of my life up until I was 6 or 7 years old. It is mianly based on the fact that he was heavily addicted to drugs, and these drugs stole mind, emotions, soul, and eventually his physical form. The image that stands out the most, is the last time I saw him. Not because it was the last tiem taht I remmeber seeing him, but because of something else... HIS EYES... I walked into my parents' bedroom, and caught him going through my mother's purse when he thought that no one was around. He looked up when he heard me enter the room, and looked at me with bloodshot red eyes that seemed to stare right through me. After a few seconds, he went back to his search for cash. A few years after that, he died from a drug overdose, but he was dead to me long before then. His eyes still haunt my thoughts to this day.

I grew up with abandonment and trust issues, because it seemed that many people that I loved, either decieved or abandoned me. This made me angry and bitter, but I bottled up my true feelings to mask my hurt. By the time I was 14, I was a high school drop out and had more than 7 arrests on my record. At 15, I was sent to youth detention center for 1.8 months for robbery and assault. While there, I found myself surrounded by individuals whoere full of hate, misery, and bitterness. I was surrounded by teenage boys who had cold hearts, and old souls. I rebelled along with my peers, and after 13 months, I was spit back out into society, and once again began to hang around individuals just as lost as I was. Alcohol and rebelliousness is what my life consisted of.

At 19, I hit rock bottom when I found myself back in prison. This time fro crimes I am innocent of. Due to this, I grow even more angry and bitter, and as I awaited trial (for 3 years), I acted out verbally and physically. Like so many others, I entered this situation totally unaware of the functions of the criminal justice system, so I put my entire trust in the hands of court-appointed attorneys. Attorneys who cared less whether they won or loss, because at the end of the week, their paychecks would be the same amount, so they defended me with not much effort or care. Growing up in an urban community, I know of knew of many individuals who were arrested, and then eventually convicted of crimes, whether they were guilty or not. I had decided that I did not want to be one of the innocent who got convicted, so I took matters into my own hands.

On the first day of trial, I attempted suicide by cops when I leapt across the defense table and got into a big melee with several court officers. It was alleged that I was attempting to escape custody, but that was never my intentions. If I intended to do so, then I would of ran toward the open doorway, not away from it. The only thing that I was attempting to escape that day was my life, but this was not to be. As I layed on the ground, I was being beat with batons, punches, and kicks, but the physical pain did not seem to bother me. It was my broken spirits that caused the most pain. As a result of this courtroom fracas, additional prison time was added on to the life sentence that I already was given, but I did not seem to notice, because my broken spirit seemed to overshadow it all.

After the courtroom melee, I was placed in solitary confinement. I've been in this extreme abnormal isolation for the past 7 years, and my confinement in this setting is indefinite. A few years back, as I stood in my cell and listened to my surroundings, I heard a few solitary prisoners verbally degrading one another. I heard someone also crying. I heard another rapping lyrics that spoke of pain and struggle. I heard someone else singing a sad love song that spoke of heartbreak and heartache. I heard several others banging on their doors, and shouting at "correction" officers. All of these voices and sounds spoken all at once, sounds like a foreign language to ears not accustom to it, but my ears have grown accustom to it long ago. But on this particular day, after getting back to my cell after an emotional visit with a loved one. Coupled with the fact that I was depressed and full of despair, hurt, pain, and broken spirits, I became so overwhelmed that I attempted suicide, because my soul yearned to be free.

The attempt was unsuccessful, and afterwards as I sat on the floor, I did something that I hadn't done for many many years... I CRIED... I cried for what seemed like hours... I cried for what seemed like days, weeks, months... I cried a waterfall that never seemed to want to stop... I cried tears that felt alien against my face... As I cried, I thought about my father's bloodshot red eyes... I thought about my mother, who did her best to raise her fatherless children on her own... I thought about many of the so-called family and friends who have come and gone over the years, and those who were long gone from the beginning... I thought about all that I've endured throughout my lifetime... I've endured abandonment, deceit, and betrayal by many that I loved... I've endured heartache and heartbreak... I've endured despair, mental and emotional anguish and beats of depression... I've endured losing several friends to murder or suicide... I've endured losing several family and friends to prison, snd drug addictions. I've endured, and still endure many lonely days and nights in solitary confinement... all I've endured has left me permanently scarred mentally, emotionally, and physically.
My life's "weather forecast" has been dreary and frigid, and because of this, my soul is somewhat chilled... my life's "weather forecast" has been gloomy, and this gloom seems to hang heavily on my heart... my life's "weather forecast" has had its sunny days, but the sunlight doesn't seem to last long because numerous clouds will eventually cover it. These clouds that hover over me so often, is the reason why I always keep a raincoat and umbrella nearby, because... when it rains, it pours, and when it pours I'm drenched.