Kunta, 28

At first, I didn’t even notice that I was easing the hurt from my soul. Even though I am not fully healed, I have come a long way and I am doing a whole lot better. So, I continue to write, healing my soul.

I’ve been locked up since I was sixteen. In the beginning, I really struggled because I didn’t know how to verbally express myself. I would be drowning on the inside because of all of the words and feelings that I wasn’t expressing. One night in my cell, I started writing poetry. The next day, I let my brother read it and he liked it, which inspired me to keep writing. This was ten years ago. At first, I didn’t even notice that I was easing the hurt from my soul. Even though I am not fully healed, I have come a long way and I am doing a whole lot better. So, I continue to write, healing my soul. Hopefully, in the process, I am able to help heal a little of the world’s pain through my words. Because of my poems, my words are my truest and sincerest feelings – my worries, my hurts, my depression. I share openly with you, all in hopes of letting you know that you are not alone in this world because I am out here with you in spirit.

“Depressed State of Mind”

Running from my reality

On the brink of losing my sanity

Carrying the world on my shoulders

An’ yet they are still mad at me

Quite often I’m neglected

Soul in a constant state of depression

In a head-on collision with rejection

I’m breaking mirrors

Can you speak louder so the message will be clearer

Voices yelling in my head

And I still can’t hear ya

Thoughts of suicide

So why should I fear ya

I’m drowning in despair

Agony filling my lungs

So there’s no air

No hope of breathin’

Got me afraid of sleeping

Because all I see is demons

Fighting to devour my soul

Feels like I’m losing control

My body holding on and my soul still letting go

My heart beatin’ hectic

I was born dead

So tell God my body

He can come collect it