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Prose of a Con

Poetry and Prose by Russell Wardlow

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Bruh, I Get It

January 20, 2020 by Russell Wardlow Leave a Comment

True story

I listened

offering my heart translated through words

presence and attentiveness

watching as his facial features tried remaining masked

but I saw thru the facade

knowing who he was at that moment-

a hurt and broken man,

struggling to hold it all together

though he was none the wiser of my discovery

but I get it

not being able to see his kids

no visits since he’s been locked up

a wife being everything to other men but a wife to him

even though he didn’t have much time to do

but I guess any time gone, is time too long

he knew she lied

she’d asked him how does he know

he responded that he could feel it-

deep in his heart

catching her off guard I’d imagine with such a deep revelation

coming from a man of all things

she told him she just wants to do her

and maybe they will get back together in the future

but he’d had enough

rejecting that offer immediately

knowing the devalue of self that would come from accepting that possibility

but not all love is right

and he’d done enough wrong

her explanation of concealing her deeds was ‘wanting to spare his feelings’ (cold…)

to that, he said

“what feelings?”

I got myself ripped from you and my kids being in this situation

the judge made sure he ensured the void

and you have ended any kind of relationship and marriage that we had

“what feelings?”

and I understood him

poignantly

painfully

a putrid feeling invading my re-collective past similar experience ending at the worst time for me

he said the reason it hurt is because he’s at his lowest

“leave me when I’m high but not when I’m at my lowest, when I can’t fend for myself”

but she reveled in the power she gained from his mistaken departure

not gone a second too soon it seemed

why does love continue to get diluted by power struggles?

his existence was now dark cold isolated and hollowed out

a hole carved inside fragments of what was once a heart

the story went on

and as he vented

I saw his resolve

restraint

and his reserve

I believed that real strength was a mysterious feat harnessed by women at deeper levels than men could ever reach

but seeing this man,

a reflection of myself

trying to hold it together

while speaking truth to his pain

still trying to reason and stay afloat

mmm

powerful!

I admired his will

I kept asking myself when will the dam break?

anticipating tears to spring down his trembling cheeks

I reveled at this moment,

seeing victory in him

no doubt she believed she took his fight

but I seen it brilliantly on his face

staying strong for his kids

and for his mom he just listened to cry

whom was flying in to see her grand babies for the first time

hearing the news of an abrupt change of plans by their mother leaving town

malicious

I began to take it in,

validation

we are more than thoughtless animals,

deserving of cages

though we are convicts,

we are people struggling through life like most

but what I wasn’t prepared for was hearing why he was here

he got a misdemeanor upgraded to a felony for a FIRST TIME OFFENSE DUI- refusal to blow though he consented at the station

this one small lack of judgement caused all of this

he did what most would get diversion or probation for

but he was black

so when he said

“what feelings?”

I understood what he alluded to

saying he lost it all

that he has to carry this the rest of his life

so what more is there to feel?

I get it

damn…

I feel you brotha

upon his face bears the greatest lie

while hiding the hardest truth

but his composure will not wilt like a flower in shade

not matter how dark it gets

strength

I told him that it is all a matter of how you choose to react

see what you’ve lost sight of in the midst of your discomfort

there may lie a gift-

a truth only revealed in despair

what I didn’t tell him is

that I’ve heard this same story countless times over the years

as the years have gone on,

my answers evolved

from being the story

to witnessing the story

now counseling the story

his pain was and still is mine

bruh, I get it

hold ya head solja.

Filed Under: Culture, Inside, Love, Mercy, 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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