Prose of a Con

Poetry and Prose by Russell Wardlow

Inside

Vent

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I feel if
I don’t come out all tough
then it’ll seem like prison
wasn’t hard enough on me
because I don’t fit the stereotype
of exiting after a decade

if I come out all silent
then I’ll be pitied
seen as traumatized
too much cautious space given
and tiptoes echoing my surroundings

but if I come out happy, then what?
am I crazy?
did prison not work?
did it not pummel and beat me into submission?
will you not take heed to the trauma that I endured
because I’m not expressing it outward?

why do I have to be a certain way
for you to acknowledge or keep in mind
what it could have been for me in here
without it dominating my disposition?

I’d like to live life and not have the mug
paranoia and emotional dysfunctions prison creates
I want to be sensitive and let go
I want to be able to cry and laugh
while still saying, yea, prison traumatized me
I struggle at sometimes more than other
yet everyday is battle like recovering addicts
but I get by because I aspire to strive thrive and
do more than just survive, because I am more
than prison

but if I don’t come out worse for wear,
how many will not get the attention they need
because I showed up and came out looking alright
I’m not the norm, listen, I am the exception
trust me!
I’m prideful enough to hide my wear and be armor
so I can have enough in me to go back and be a benefit

I have always had to fit some stereotype my whole life
can I just be soft cuddly and emotionally available
tend to a woman’s tears or maybe in some
distant universe we can share tears
and only the warrior surfaces when the time is pronounced

this is so heavy and draining
I have to think about what you think of me
that I can’t think enough of what I think of me
and what I think those thoughts should mean for me
so I can do more than think of who I should be
because I just wanna be

but you may not know this
you need an indicator to verify a stereotype
or to cancel one
so it can help you decide what action to take
stop looking for signs
everyone hides
faith isn’t seen, yet it is
neither is disguise, except it is

someone just tell me, tell us that it is alright
alright to just be, and there are people out there
that can handle and embrace us in their lives
why look for something already pure and perfect?
make it so

My Mama Veered Left, but We ALL-RIGHT

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I just found out…
before my mom went back to jail
she started using again
abusing to blend
the outer influences that have ruined her when
she was truant losing parental rights,
consumed by polluted solutions
diluted for illusions
even the acoustics
of broomsticks moving
couldn’t remove the doom and gloom from the room she was in
prayers for a truce in her sin
mistakes and detached love has been her truth and the rue of her kin
plagued by a traumatic history and the hue in her skin
the rooms starts to spin…
the truth which tombs her within
til her roots spruce on the bend
giving into the ruse of delusions
to get through any mood that’s she’s in
desire and coping habits to the hopeless, are like a noose to her wind
her air cut off, and this is nothing new
this is something I should’ve knew
but the news of it is
she was doing great blooming
til covid became the new nuisance
she couldn’t get any break, so how do you choose when you can’t win?
and this is what I’m used to
this is proof to,
how they debilitate spoon feed and groom you
til you’re set loose from the pen
you’re never free from prison
because prison imprisons
til you’re fatally doomed in the end
and the view is too grim
yet they’ll always have a room for you here

it’s hard, I fight shame frustration and embarrassment
but I’ma still love you mama
I learned this kinda love ain’t learned, it’s inherited
of many things, this is the favorite part of you that I’ve parroted
even through the ups and downs of life’s parodies
you deserve a break, after all you been through, it’s merited
so I’ll be going even harder, and any extra weight you pick up, I’ll help you carry it
the truth is, this is more than a physical collapse, this is mental
I know that battle is actually a war, it’s far from simple
consistence persistence resilience diligence,
what I mean is that I’ma follow-through because it’s essential
after all, experience in this side of life is the best credentials
plus I’m up on my studies,
being a successful healer to me is existential
if my empathic understanding isn’t evidential
then the proof is in the R.U.S.S. initials
because I know emotions are a Cold War like Russian missiles
so your truth won’t be concealed like tucking pistols
no matter what love comes into my life
I’ma represent you right, and not throw you to the side
saying, ‘those just my mother’s issues’
trust and believe, the day you free, I’ma come and get you
so if you fall in your own home, it’ll be your own walls that you’re running into

this is my life, I can never do it part-time
because even the future digs up archives
when you living for the love, then it’s your heart’s prime
and you can endure any kinds of hard times
let my words be a beacon for the dark side
and the dark minds
and the lost minds
and to whomever else my heart finds
because even if you veer left, take a hard right
so you know no matter where you end up, you’ll be alright

WayOfLife

The Wisdom, Before the Fool

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to know what you are
you must see something alike
to know who you are
you must see something alike,
that acts unalike

and so I told my celly
I know I’m a person
because there are many others characterized the same as I
people
making me a part of a species

I know what I like
by experiencing the things I do not like
to know who you are
you must experience who you are not
something and someone in opposition
to your convention or position

therefore, how I know I’m going out of my way
is because you never go out of yours
and normally I wouldn’t allow
who someone is,
to dictate who I am

but when I am being who I am-
trying to become,
you make me feel like
you think that it may be something
which it is not

and you seem too used to this thing
you may think that it is
therefore, to stop any further confusion
ima be who I need to be
in relation to you and me

no longer shall I go out of my way
in my way, Way must stay
from here on

therefore at times one must be
whom one is not
to protect that which one truly is

and so this is the battle
to end the impending uncivil war of
wars, worlds, and words

because this is a nature
I’m all too familiar with
as you are also
though it illustrates the first word
of my last name

‘oh word?’
yea, word
but it’s all one
now that we made a sentence

Shh, for Our Sake, or Mine

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for I have a secret, I can’t tell.
heavy is the heart, it dwells.
Crack! goes the shell.
yet silence, hailed!

for I have one of many,
secrets, I can’t tell!
and my silence may judge me
to a cell, in jail

or to hell,
with a half-empty, water pale.
bid me well,
or, farewell.

because I will never,
tell.
a hidden truth deep-rooted,
blossoms tales.

Where Will You Be?

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when I am free
where will you be?
where will you be,
when I am free?

will you be free,
when I am free?
will you be,
when I can be?

will you be,
where I can be?
will you be free,
when I am free?

will I be free
to be, me?
will you feel free,
where I can be?

can I ever be free,
not being me?
can you let me free
to be?

and if I, am me
can you be, I
therefore, I, am you
because being, is we

can this state, set you free?
free, to be, you,
free, to be, me,
free, to be, we?

this state, sets me free
so, where will you be,
when I am free?
will you too, be, free?

Shelled

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I’m simply
a mollusk
too soft for this world
so I’ve grown a hard shell
and I exist within it, always
to come out
would render me
prey, too vulnerable
to the predators of life
evolution is survival
therefore my ending might arise
if you request me to step out of which
I have lived by
sustained myself with
protected myself with
distanced myself with
disguised myself in
you may be asking me to risk
the very life
I’ve grown up
shielding you away from
parts of me you may never understand
those parts you may never accept
these parts, too fragile to be handled tightly
for I give in too easily
and so attraction has always proven to be
fatal, for people like me
so I move at a snails pace
to never stray too far, from my safe space