When I first got arrested, and idly standing by (for 3 months) to be sentenced, I began creating a slew of words, onto the reverse-sides of my court paperwork, to express my emotions. The writing had to be tiny so it would fit onto the pages. Notebooks were not something you could buy on commissary while in County Jail.

I found out that when I placed my pen into motion, there was an escape from a difficult reality, into cleansing episodes of relief. However the words were put together, they always lifted a slight weight from the life of despair I thought I was living.

After I “Blue” up all of my court documents, I had to wait, or “shut up and do (my) time” as it was frequently stated, until I was transported to the Prison where I would be housed for the remainder of my sentence, to buy a journal of some sort.

When I finally made it to the Correctional Facility, I found that notebooks were not sold on commissary anymore. Long story short, I traded 2 “Lopes” (envelopes) and 4 soups (Top Ramen)  to acquire the notebook that I will be sharing.

There is no educated explanation of what style I had written in, or why some of it may rhyme and some of it does not. I’m not a fucking novelist.

All I cared about was getting it on paper and briefly out of my head…

all written material will be typed out underneath each image with corrected spelling and possibly grammar… we’ll see. I will also include what these words meant to me at the time of writing. The pinned location is where I lived when I wrote these entries.

1."A new Kingdom has come into existence and we shall prevail
      the path we have marked with our thunderous step
                    is worthy of Legend"

2.  "There is a frailness on the inner grounds of the cage of bones 
with a trembling rhythm, a faltering source, on the verge of 
collapsing from within. To crumble is to leak out the morose: Spilling
before The Suffer and existence end. Gawking at the mass of 
ribbons, intertwining the brittle grasp and trailing, descending down
into the depths of perfection." 

3.  "The scribbles I snap my wrist upon are dribbled with draining 
despair. My very soul is stinging in the back of my ever-blurring
vision while fluids of fire fall off the face of pain."
  1. At the time of writing this, I found inspiration from a David Eddings book. One of my thought processes when I was incarcerated was that I was there to correct myself. The word “Kingdom” is meant to represent my whole being.
  2. This is a representation of the pain I had felt in my heart during the worst parts of my depression before I was in prison. Suicidal thoughts had run rampant and this piece is a visual of my breaking heart that winds up in my hand as the blood leaks towards my failure. I use the word “perfection” as a synonym for failure. If everything was perfect, there would be no reason to strive for more.
  3. I cry when I write. ‘Nuff said.


One thought on “Incarceration.  

  1. Thank you God, for continuing to guide us! Please keep Your Hand upon my friend Mitchell here, that his words may be used by You Lord, to open the heart and soul if another suffering alcoholic/addict… Amen


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