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Prose of a Con

Poetry and Prose by Russell Wardlow

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Trauma

Stepped on

November 1, 2020 by Russell Wardlow Leave a Comment

How much indignities must I suffer

how many insults must I bear

how long shall I wallow in pity and shame

how long must I be stepped on for the vantage of others

how tall are you really?

and how short was I forced to be?!

juh, just geeeet thee fuck offfuh me!

Filed Under: Inside, Trauma

No middle

November 1, 2020 by Russell Wardlow Leave a Comment

I only feel when I’m threatened or stressed

I have to go thru something to feel something

to feel valuable

when nothing happens, I feel dead

but everything I react to intensely

as if it’s life or death

I have no medium

in traumatized people

we have hyperactive amygdalas

which may dull our prefrontal cortex

so I have less filter…

all I am, is the moment at hand

either up or down

full of extreme changes

and this is the only explanation you’ll get,

that makes any sense

I’m always either one of two extremes

Filed Under: Culture, Inside, Love, Trauma

Psychos Therapy

November 1, 2020 by Russell Wardlow Leave a Comment

Psychotherapists should look to set up in prisons

if they really wanna make a difference

unless they weigh potential success

versus inheriting a subject’s duress

Prison’s mental health is offering meds

creating more addictions just to take off the edge

never fixing what society wanted changed

never fixing the traumatic anxiety in our brains

made to accept normalcy within our chains

even a psychotherapist would understand that that’s deranged

Filed Under: Culture, Inside, Trauma

Grew up, I’m-prisoned

October 29, 2020 by Russell Wardlow Leave a Comment

I grew up

mother incarcerated

father deceased

I grew up

as a foster child

and ‘my mother’s’ child

I grew up

confused, shamed, and angry

lost, unfit, and skeptical

I grew up

witnessing adult truths

experiencing adult lives

I grew up

hearing adult lies

feeling adult pain

I grew up

in a merry go round

home shelter institution home facility…

I grew up

absorbing everything

blending, but never fitting

I grew up

standing by, no one stayed standing by my side

none understood me

I grew up

with internal battles

viewed by my reactions

I grew up

seen as trouble

judged like a man

I grew up

aggressive, out of fear and protection of myself

that narrative carried thru my years, stunting my growth

still, I grew up

now look where I am

exactly where I started off

but at least I grew up…

Filed Under: Culture, Inside, Love, Trauma

Amygdala, Prefrontal Cortex Wars

October 22, 2020 by Russell Wardlow Leave a Comment

I’m overly stimulated yet numb

if I get overstimulated, I’m numb

prefer to be over stimulated, or I’ll be numb

I have to feel to feel

or I won’t feel

though I’ll never feel

because I’m numb

mapping a neurological mind

of a man traumatized

since he was young

Filed Under: Inside, Love, Trauma

Errday my birthday

October 21, 2020 by Russell Wardlow Leave a Comment

I die so much daily

living to reflect on the happening the next day

surprised I’ve survived

when I think so often

and succumb to frequently

my own death

but there’s a rebirth

unfolding like a cocooned butterfly

eagerly meeting its first horizon

resurrected,

I’ve lived again

Filed Under: Culture, Inside, 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.

Read More

  • Whose Mind is it Anyway June 30, 2022
  • Objects June 30, 2022
  • Same Thang, Different Name June 30, 2022
  • Optical Ill-lusions June 30, 2022
  • Hollow Symbols June 30, 2022

Themes

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  • Inside
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  • Mercy
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  • Trauma
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