The only problem in prison is the I

Finally got the damn poem to talk to me. All friggin week I’ve been writing and x’ing and scribbling and cursing. It finally came together thanks to a conversation.

The only problem in prison is the I

Brick by brick

We built a cell

Fat was one

And crazy

Wriggling fingers into the space

The mortar called love

Enslaved me

We knew there was sun on the other side

But we clouded the truth by escaping

Hope is the Hell

Inside our blue skies

The futility of I am chasing

Love, Freedom, Heaven

All words to disguise

The spark ignites the seeking

Infinite light and infinite dark

Outside eternity: be

Now is no one

Lost two to become

The key was

to

keep breathing

Outside, the lock

That was never there

Just a home

I thought was me, here

I Am the truth found inside

The sacred space where love can’t hide

when desperation and change collide