Eaten Alive
By Jesse R. Powell
It’s hard not getting eaten alive,
By the gnawing utterances inside me.
“You’re a felon”
“You’re a convict”
“You’re a destroyer”
“You’re a failure”
That gnawing is loud.
That voice is ravenous, starving,
Tearing me apart.
Surrounded by despair,
Encased in brick,
Separated from the world by razor wire.
America loves comebacks!
Unless you’re the variety of criminal I am,
Unless you are subjected to whispers
And hate in here.
Society has not changed that much.
Don’t worry, I’ll never be working with you,
Or teaching your kids,
Or ever moving beyond this blight
I bought upon my own self.
52 months,
10 years parole
My life has functionally ended,
But my existence has just kicked off.
Poisoned, broken, lost
I hungrily search for a future
That burned up when
they put me on the ten o’ clock news
It’s done now
I’m done now.
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