Self-proclaimed wreck of the law abiding masses, a picture of blond pigtailed perfection at 5, matured quickly into the family imp surrounded by others success.
A real player cheating the game of Life fast, but not fast enough to outrun the inevitable siege excited by enforcers of the laws I continually break.
Confined in a cement reality of putrid meals and insomnia, a brilliant mind constantly racing with no finish line in sight. Physically a vision of health, restless, trying to disengage from every torturous thought of Should have run faster.
Could have been smarter.
Might have gone a different way home.
Avoid the patrol car just looking for a
good example of a failure story he can
take home to his kids as they eat their
home-cooked meal and hug their mom
while I get booked into jail again
to lose my family, my house, my friends, myself.
Intelligent enough to understand
Responsibility lies with me and my felonious actions but fuck that cop anyway.
Twisting and writhing in despair night after night only to be met each uncomfortable morning by the same confrontational slap in the lace by the penal system.
Freedom is a dream, a past, a wish. Release is an ever-changing date on a calendar I had to construct myself
because there isn’t one to make a copy from.
I stress and walk and cry behind the shower curtain so no one asks me what's wrong because I don’t want to scream,
“You know what’s wrong'
We all know whats wrong.
At present Waiting impatiently for this existence to become the past. X marks the sweet day before my serve out
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