Wrap My Heart In Plastic

Wrap My Heart In Plastic

Dedicated to my Flo.

12/23/08

Wrap up my heart.
Plastic wrap it tight to stop it from feeling any pain
from any feelings that hurt.

I wish I could cry all the pain away.
But crying just gives me a headache.
I want to go
far away from any news
from any feelings

wander in the woods until im lost
that's what this world is.
Lost
i'd be the same but minus so much pain.

Pain.
Pushed, shoved deep inside me.
Piercing at me like stabbing a zombie....no reaction.
for I am afraid to let fear know that it's real and that it has taken over.

I want to seek for help but feel like im at a train station with no ticket, no money and no destination.

Everyone bustles around me. I feel like im in slow motion and smiling.
I paint my face with my smile.

Only few can see past it. I feel stiff.

I want to stop these painful feelings.
Wrap my heart up in plastic.

Suffocate the pain until it can't beat anymore.

Wrap my heart up in plastic
and wrap it tight.

Random Thoughts

So I'm in the mood.Mood to use my creativity but I just don't know what to write. Usually i get inspired.....I feel it on the verge but I have no clue what to write about.

I'm not a blogger.

I'm not a Novel writer although I do got some good ones. Maybe short stories.

I was thinking this morning that God blessed me with the ability to write. And in my own opinion, I can write pretty well considering I started in the 7th grade. EWW so long ago.

Anyhow.I guess maybe because I have so many writings and they are just collecting dust that I feel what the FK am I gonna do? Add another layer for the dust to pile up?

I want a typewriter. Old school where the ribbon turns your fingers black. I want to sit on my patio on a summer day with the sun lazyily wanting to set, playing some mellow music. Reggae. Tango. Just some beats with no or minimal words like Nortec Collective.

I want to paint on a canvas.

I want to do wood etching.

I think I'm going to make a list.

See how far I get in doing all the things I want.I still want to make cuscomt shirts with my own stencils.

I want to make rinky dink jewelry.lolOr is it shrinky dink? you know. You know.

Anywho....maybe it's that double espresso that I drank 1/2 of before I accidently dropped in the parking lot that's got me thinking in 30 directions.

Just some words....my words...

Just some words....my words...

Instead of long drives along the coastline, I take long drives to go through metal detectors and be scrutinized by correctional officers.

Instead of pictures from beaches, family portraits or from celebrations, I have Polaroid's taken by other prisoners and C.O's to "go over" the picture making sure it's appropriate for us to have.

Instead of dining out to breakfast, lunch or dinner on the weekends, we wait in line for the vending machines hoping to get some fresh fruit or our usual tacos that we warm up in the microwave.

Instead of partying the night before and sleeping in the next day, I go to bed early tell my friends who are going out to be careful and have a drink for me….because I have to get up and find my "prison appropriate" clothes and make sure no metal bra's are underneath.

Instead of asking my brother or cousin if I can pick them up something along the way at the store, I instead ask if they'd like pictures printed or money orders made.

Instead of laughing out loud and horseplaying or cussing in a playing way, we have to say: "Shhh, be quiet before they terminate our visit".

Instead of being relaxed and enjoying our limited time, were rigid because any suspicious movement can add time to sentences or being watched by the P.I.A. or visits terminated early for "disruption".

Having to remember which colors to which prison are appropriate makes it even more confusing for myself.

Having to wait for the process to pass security seems longer than the few hours were allowed to spend with our family members.

Having to wait for gates to open and close with someone above watching us from the prison tower with a radio and a gun doesn't frighten me anymore.

Once I felt like a phish myself in this prison process. Now I'm an "old-timer". I know what to wear. How to handle my mannerisms adjusting to the "system". I know that your allowed 1 key, $30.00 in cash, dollars and silver coins only. No metal underwire for women, logo's a must in one prison and none allowed in the other.

Duckets to take photos's are $2.00 and watching, waiting for the door where the person you love in prison blues comes through with the C.O.

I never sacrifice anything. They've lost the most.

I don't care if I don't go out the night before, I don't care if I have to wake up early, I don't care if I take a long drive through the heat instead of catching ocean breeze.

It's the one's I love that keeps me going.

It's the one's I love that I care to see the most.

It's love for my family that has me see things differently.

You never sacrifice for a loved one because when you have love for your family, sacrifice is a word that isn't in your vocabulary.