Unfortunately because I did not wish for my soul to be imprisoned while my body was free, I had to go back to prison despite how hard it was to consciously put myself back in a cage. I returned to prison knowing that I will not be greeting life anytime soon.
I spend my birthday behind bars. My anguish is not from my being in prison; I suffer at the thought of my distraught family holding a small celebration in my absence to let me know that they are with me, and thinking of me. My heart aches at the thought of my mother’s tears that extinguish the candles. What an agonizing picture depicted of my family, a beautiful portrait that breaks my heart!
Don’t wish me a happy birthday.
Pay tribute to the one who brought me into this world, gave me life and an upbringing with the hallmarks of a powerful mountain standing tall while facing hardship and adversity. To the one who raised me to be a human being.
To the tears that she shed while trekking the path of freedom for me and for us. To the pounding of her tremendous heart that is thunderous and protective.
To her shelter that turns uncertainty and cowardice into undeniable courage and strength.
To the pulse of her womanhood, her motherhood, and her nurturing kindness.
To her gentle benevolence that is steadfast and unconditional.
To the humanity that does not yield to the darkness of abuse, is not marred by mistreatment.
Congratulate my mother and don’t let her suffer the pain of missing her absent child. Let us not forget that behind prison walls, birthdays do not exist.
The tears are streaming
The smiles are beaming
The love is flowing
I am not a story for you to recite
I am not a sonnet for you to sing
I am not a voice for you to discern
Nor much of anything for you to see
Nor much of anyone for you to know …
I am our common suffering
Raise your voice for me