uploaded Jan. 21, 2017.
Original (PDF)
Transcription
12-10-16
Johnathan Demond White
AKA Throwered Cuttz est. 09
I'm a better me 'cause of 8 years, non aggressive
That's the sentence I was given, but I constantly practice repentance. It's hard 'cause I ask myself, "Are you going to really do the whole sentence?"
Eight years. At first, I couldn't comprehend it, let alone stomach it. When I signed on the dotted line, the urge to vomit came and went. Never had I been incarcerated a whole year. To be honest, I shed a tear simply because it dawned on me that I'm a father. Eight years.
Leaving the world behind and experiencing life behind bars, so far away from the familiar, right next to the Trinity River, wishing I could drown my sorrows in the bottom of it but who likes the sound of that: eight years.
I've lost so much, the love. I called my forever friend who I dedicated my life to like a Pledge of Allegiance. Sure, she had a lot of grievances—hey, I'm not perfect, but we both knew I was worth it. God don't make no mistakes. My heart constantly aches. That's why I cry through this pencil, my utensil that bears my burdens. She knows that I was hurting. Our son is about to be eight years old and you're pregnant!
Eight years. Five down, three to go!
✖
Other posts by this author
|
2017 aug 1
|
2017 jul 30
|
2017 jul 29
|
2017 apr 24
|
2017 apr 20
|
2017 mar 26
|
More... |
RSS
Replies