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Prose of a Con

Poetry and Prose by Russell Wardlow

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givEND

November 30, 2019 by Russell Wardlow Leave a Comment

Off the wagon again

I took a shot of pride, and cracked it over the head of a shadow, then yelled, ‘why are you so shallow?!’

I admit I have insecurities

I’m still kinda fragile

but when it comes to my past I’m fast to act as if I’m ready for battle

til I see the shattered glass and realize it reflects me! broken and hollow

my mouth open, I swallow

gulps of dry air down a strep throat past swollen tonsils

my trachea aching, I need a chaser, there’s no mistaking I’m allergic to swallowing pride

running from truth, while following lies

fancy myself a leader yet following lines

that lead me straight to troubled abdominal signs-

bad ‘gut feelings’…

and that moment I wretch

is the moment you sketched

a visual of my regrets

same moment I’m stretched and sprawled over my mess

bile clinging to my flesh

what?! I’m anyone’s guess

this is how I deal with my stress

I’m a paradox, ok? simply-complex

death is a promise…but life is the threat

and my misery experienced inbetween is the cost from the price that was set so forget it!

I rather tilt up, when I feel down

hearing that colored river traversing my esophagus is an irresistible sound

draining into my spirit, the feeling is almost prophetic

how can I regret a cadence that is so poetic

I salute and surrender to your potent potion and poignant nature

you aren’t addiction

you’re needed, you’re necessary, you’re priceless, You Are Art

paint inside my soul with your brown silky silhouette,

slithering the silo of my mouth so seductively

I savor the way you satiate my gullet as if a serum soldiered serendipitously by saliva,

your solution snaking about so serenely,

until I’ve ingested your sacchrine of Serenity and Beyond!

solemn silence summoned,

then subsides to siphoned incessant swishes of kinetic formula until sanity,

sour sanity, is saturated by a solvent solace,

swathing my insides s

wallowing your depths is both a sacred and sinister covenant that whispers to me like a Siren!

Shut up conscience!

don’t sully my savior!

shamelessy soaked in a sin-sated by sensation

spurned and spun by a smooth and sweet sage

don’t be shy she says

sanctimony

I’m safe now

don’t save her

spare myself that emptiness

tilt her up and fill myself, until I dont feel myself

be strong and dont struggle

submit succubus, yes

but her salacious soliloquies, sound so alluring,

luring me ever so close…

I cant resist you!

I grab you!

I have you!

Victory!

You’re All Miiine!

and with pride I consume you in one gulp!

…

then you’re all gone?!

and I’m still broken!

so I break you!

then break down!

seeing your seeping, shattered shadow, I scream, “Why Are You So Shallow?!

I don’t get it..

I drank every last bit of you!

and I’m still.. hollow

Filed Under: Culture, Love, Trauma

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Prose of a Con

Prose of a Con is a collection of Russell Wardlow’s prose and poetry written entirely behind bars. Through writings on family, spirituality, freedom, love, justice, redemption, and vulnerability, Russell seeks to show the humanity and hope of individuals like himself who are incarcerated.

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