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Photo by Owen Michael Grech on Unsplash

I am infatuated with stationery.
I have a strong desire for it, and it puts me at ease
easily,

Like taking a hit of a drug, when the pen hits that paper,
Like eating your favorite food, when that stamp goes on
that blank envelope,

Put it sideways, it means I miss you.
Put it upside down, it means I love you.

Amazed and want possession, of all the different
stamp types,
stacking up on all varieties of writing paper, like people
did with masks at the start of coronavirus.

To study all these words, and know the meaning of
them.
Collaborate and put them together, like no
Other in the world could do,
To express yourself, and give your point of view on any
subject.
To vent the things you’ve been
holding in,
In the way you show your penmanship, writing neatly and the
way you slant with your cursive style,

Campaigning like you’re running for president, writing to
addresses in all states and countries,
Not even concerned, if you get a response back,
As long as they read my name, it will always be in
their memory bank.

I’m going to have a pen, pad and stamps around,
Till my last days of me leaving this earth,
Because nobody want to hear, from a person that hasn’t
Lived what they’re talking about,

Its called, learning how to dance in the rain,
with my purpose and passion,
With stationery.

Disclaimer: The views in this article are those of the author. Prison Journalism Project has verified the writer’s identity and basic facts such as the names of institutions mentioned.

E.D.H. is a poet who was raised in Compton in Los Angeles. He is currently incarcerated in California. He has asked to be published under his pen name.