Prison of the Mind

original image by Mitch Lensink @unsplash.com @lensinkmitchel

If convicted here’s my written statement.

I’ve taken time away from you and now my times been wasted.

This cascade of faces rain down upon me like storm clouds chased and,

So many traces of my spoken words, are lies; allegations.

A supposed witnesses truth lack proof; fabrications.

But here I am face to face with this jury of peers and in here perjury wins.

These people look down upon me silent yet there demeanor is god like judging all of the wrongs I’ve committed: disregarding the right.

All the rights lie within my writings.

My legacy. A lineage of open ended script developed through mentorship and infused with my demented wit. Its carved a vocal tone and builds evidence in my favor.

Yes rights arnt given to those that command it my fight ended long ago when beneath bandages revealed words can kill as well as heal.

The sutures bind in like lace front wigs better yet sew ins cause reconstruction is the substance of damages rebuilt; and forgiveness is a misprint in the human image.

No one really forgives as acts of will are not likely forgotten a topic better served cold; on the rocks;

let’s talk about it.

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