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Close up of keys with a dark background
Photo: Depositphotos

I remember when keys made me feel powerful
I could open doors, start engines, create music
I remember when keys twinkled their potential
To cities, to success, to knowledge, to hearts
Now I can’t recall the last time I unlocked my own chest
Tight from the anxiety of keys jang-jang-jangling against hips
I hear them now, breaking through deafening silence,
Metallic and reverberating from intentional rattling
Weaponized as trauma inducers, clanging
When the cuffs come out and the cops come ’round
Now keys make me flinch at their sound

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.

Amanda Knight is a writer incarcerated in Washington.