Understand me --- That is if I seem hostile and defending it is because every facet of my world is a threat to the soft mellow things I keep inside me. How do you say it? How do you spit out on paper what you want to have known to a special someone beyond the fence? Never can little words obscure little marks on a piece of paper, tell of the loneliness, doubts, bitterness and frustrations that are constant companions of everyone in this world away from the free world.
No one can ever know, no one who has never been a blue clad, numbered - nothing. I can't begin to tell them , but I can try. I can try because when this human meat grinder spits me back out into the free world. I'm going to be different from all the rest of the American John Doe's who have been to hell and all I want is someone to understand me, understand that if I feel hostile and defensive it is because every facet of this world is a threat to the soft sweet things I keep inside me. I cannot trot out gentleness because nothing in prison is gentle, I cannot show kindness, because in my world kindness is a weakness, and weakness in prison is a slow agonizing torture. I dare not exhabit love, because the wolves of my world would tear me to shreds I cannot bring forth and demonstrate my loneliness or hungers, because they have become a bone deep ache that even I cannot reach and soothe. . . . .
