Inmate correspondent:
As simple and plain as the blank black stamp on the envelope
It screams of love dissatisfaction and hurt, much like the free world.
If only tax dollars would pay for this too.
Drowning under a silver lonely moon, drunk again.
Drunk on my old loneliness, for you I drink, sick again.
The water fills my plastic bottles, as I walk, as I drive, alone.
The salt like mosquitoes stings as we circle around perfect, knowing false.
Mirrors drown. I stand next to your grave, the water fills my lungs.
No one knows you.
I hid them underneath your memories, under our smiles, we are never alone.
And little ropes and pink whitish pills call, the moon smiles and hands me the provisions..
Yet around the corner something is brewing, I have been watching.
Wings, grey, flight, smiles. No fine here for throwing coins, bread, peanuts, trail mix, in honor of poochinie.
Pizza, pop-tarts, sushi, chocolate, and peanut butter scattered for their delight,
we smile.
Legos never built houses this strong.
Fitting in with a dead flower on my wrist, we dine, we drink, we laugh, yet it is still alive.
I fit in when we are alone.
Midgets, mermaids, women with beards, a man with no arms or legs,
I fidget.
On a good day I see good in people, tonight I see nothing worth saving
but my sunfish, a box of ashes, a picture, and a sea horse snow globe.
I am loved, though I cannot feel it now.
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