prison visitor Glass wall

This is my prison visitor Glass wall. It isn’t fragile like green edged glass that is put on wondrous windows that face bright communities. But at the same time it was once clearer than the social façades most families build.

I’m blocked off from touching, feeling, breathing, loving and wanting anybody, anything, or anywhat on the other side of my prison visitor glass wall, but all of my voice is aloud out of the speaking hole.

The hole is made for spreading lies that multiply into more lies and the mess that they create always lies in front of me and I should be ashamed, but I don’t know for who or why I should be ashamed  for when the mess is on the other side and the guards have neglected to clean up the turmoil and suffocating shit on my side.

Why do I spread lies through the only opening I am allowed to use to those on the other side? Simple, because I abide by the rules of my own personal constitution that states in article one section 4 “that the pain that you feel is you burden alone. To put it on the ones you love is an abomination and punishment is…” you get my drift. So I sit in silent despair behind my prison visitor Glass wall only showing my midriff and up  to all. Some of my visitors give me hallowed applause, and some just ball once they realize where they are and where the person they came to see is.

All I know is that my prison visitor glass wall is getting dirty and grimy on my side. I’ve been contemplating a prison break for the longest of time, but that was never a style of mine. So at the end of the day, trust me, I ‘ll be fine.