I see a lot of individuals looking worn out, beatdown, unhealthy, hopeless
and tired. I hear a lot of voices speaking of the past, but their present and future
have no highlights. I smell pleasant aromas of incense, mixed with alcohol
being prepared and foul body odors all cultivating in the same air. I taste recycled
tap water every time I feel thirsty or dehydrated. I feel the thin mat on my back
when I lay on a metal slab. With a cold concrete wall joined next to me like
twins that are born stuck together. One day of my life in prison,
these are my five senses.
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.