prison-poetry

On a Saturday night you’ll have nobody to call and your heart will ache to escape these four walls.
They’re gone I tell you, they’re not coming back. You’re all on your own down the winding sidetrack.
Alone is a word you will have to get used to, it’s less of a place and more of a virtue.
See they don’t really care if you’re sad or on edge because you have a role that you play in their heads.
If you break the script and start going off trail, you can bet that’s when nearly all of them bail.
And I’m sorry to you if all of them left, it’s a sad world now and it’s not at it’s best.
People are fickle and just put themselves first, though you try much too hard to help them at their worst.
In the end they all fade, even your greatest lovers. They’ll hide from the pain they don’t want to discover.
Yet you will push on though the world’s dipped in lies. You’ll make it through all without any disguise.
For you’re a great person of courage and love, you don’t run from hard truths, you just see from above.
It’s life’s simple meaning that they don’t seem to see, we die alone always and never are free.
—  Mozo Void | Alone
Union

I don’t like to dwell on all the times lovers

made me want to veto feelings

I try not to live passively but

some things have been done to me

my best defense against sexual assault

was when a guy got me drunk enough to fuck me

I vomited on his dick

next time we’ll show up w baseball bats

I want girls to get more bad

someone said there should be more mad women

I think the mad women just need louder voices

there’s enough of us if we refuse to be silent

I don’t want to get married

to become the crazy woman in the attic

I want to get married

to have someone permanently monitor me

so I’ll have a use for my claws

The number of people I know in jail

is increasing

The number patients who need prescriptions

never seems to fall

the prison & the asylum

shatter in my head like glass

Under the pestle how terribly the rice suffers!
But it comes out of the pounding as white cotton.
In this world the same process happens to humans:
Hard trials turn them into diamonds bright.
—  Ho Chi Minh, ‘Listening To The Sound Of Rice Pounding’, from The Prison Poems of Ho Chi Minh, trans. by The Binh Dang
Letters from Prison: Christy to Marcus

Prison Poetry Day Seven Letters from Prison

Marcus

I grow eager for your heat pressing into my back,

your hand on my neck as you fuck me. I do not

wish to shock you, but being here has bared me

to the nerve. I rest not but in fitful snatches of sleep

and spend much of the day crunching and pushing up

and masturbating. There is so much time in an hour

and lover, god how I miss your mass. Your fucking

weight and belly hair, and your fucking musk.

Being around all this bitches makes me fucking ornery.

God damn, could I use a smoke. A fucking hit, too.

When you come upstate, make sure you don’t

jerk off for a few days, because I want to shake that trailer 

for the full fucking hour, and I want you many times.

Drink water. Eat eggs. Steak. Protein. Stop drinking.

For five days and come ready to let me break myself

against your body, your heart, your heat.

Christy

“My alarm clock goes off at 6:00 sharp. By 6:05 I’m in the shower. And out by 6:15. By 6:30 I’m dressed and my hair is done. By 6:40 I’m trying to eat breakfast. By 6:55 I’m brushing my teeth. And by 7:00 I’m out the door and on my way to school. From 7:15-8:30 I’m finishing homework and studying for my classes in the library. From 8:35-3:05 I’m in the prison walls we call school. My brains scattered and confused filled with equations I have to remember. My day is filled with "you’ll need to know this for the test” “if you fail this you could fail my class” and “this project is worth a lot of points” it’s a continuous cycle of hearing kids say “I don’t care” “it doesn’t matter” and “I need to do this” “I need to pass” Walking down the hallways I see kids who look like zombies. I see kids hyped up on red bull or monster or whatever keeps them ‘going’ so they can make it through the school day. By 6th hour everyone has checked out and the worst part is there’s still 45 mins left of school. By 3:00 the teacher has stopped talking because no one is listening. They’re all too excited to get out of this place. But what slows them down is that by 3:15 they are home. And by 3:30 they’re leaving to get to their jobs that start at 3:45. And by 9:00 when they finally get off they just want to sleep. But they can’t because even though it’s now 11:50 they still have a essay to write for English and the draft is due tomorrow. By 2:00 we finally go to bed. And at 6:00 sharp, the alarm clock goes off. And we do it all over again.“
—  Day after day, it’s the same routine.
stuck

trapped
in this body–
DNA coded me as female,
but my mind screams male.
trapped
in this home–
forced to hide who I am,
being different is a sin.
suffocating
in these thoughts–
fighting my genetics
with streams of self-hatred.
suffocating
with invalidation–
countless bras and panties,
wishing they were binders and boxers.
prisoner
in my head–
who I am and who I’m not,
a never-ending battle.
prisoner
in my clothes–
feminine, body hugging,
I just want to express myself.

I still wake up in to the 4 corners of this colorless bed room to feel the warmth of the sun but not go outside

You dont hear me cry even though i just think your ignoring it I’m alone and going crazy because i don’t know where I’m supposed to go or who I’m supposed to be

My depression keeps me prisoner locked in my own mind and body all while my spirit just wants to be free

They’re all outside having fun living and enjoying life all while I’m forgotten and still trapped in this cage

Am i going to be here or am i going to be there in the clouds where all those who died went to their version of heaven -gardenlovepoet prisoner

I leapt into the sky today
and stayed there for once
but it didn’t feel like flying
I sat in the belly of a monster
the beast screamed through the sky
and vomited into clouds
I was hurtling miles above the heads
of everyone else
faster than anything that lives
so why did I feel
more caged than I have in a long while
how can I be that fast and free
and yet not at all
—  A.O.A.M. || Glass Cage