Powerlessness

Have you ever visited a loved one behind a window? Been denied the basic human need of physical touch? Separated by half an inch of man made barrier reinforced with metal and longing. My heart hurts. Swirling emotions in me that have been overwhelming and painful. This shit is so deep and so personal and so fucked up it makes me want to scream.
Grieving the loss of time with someone that is still living is a new kind of torcher. It seems easier to do it from afar. Across a phone or a screen knowing they are hundreds of miles away creates gratitude and comfort. Being half an inch is cruel. It bubbles an anger of injustice in me that makes me freeze. Powerless to do anything. Swirling in a world that values punishment over repair. That gets pleasure in suffering. That justifies the enslaving of bodies in the name of justice.
I literally don’t care what people have to say about the criminal justice system who have not experienced a loved one locked in it’s cages. Fuck the politicians and the police. I never want to hear again “well he put himself there.” I don’t want another person to share their opinion with me just like no one wants to hear “It’s gonna be okay” after a loved one has died.
It’s not gonna be okay. In this moment. In this putrid mixture of sadness, powerlessness, injustice and anger.
People watched the documentary “Daughters” and vicariously felt the flood of emotion these little girls were feeling. I live this every day with MY daughter. Yes her father made choices that led him behind cinder blocks and steel. Yes he is serving time for committing a crime that was wildly not okay. I make no excuses and excuse no behaviors. I am grateful he was arrested because in all actuality it saved his life and has been slowly bringing him back to us. The process of getting there has been riddled with cruelty though. With systems and decisions made by others who are justified in their behaviors because of the titles they hold and the badges they wear. While he is only seen in blue. Branded CDCR INMATE #……
I don’t care to explain but only to purge. To see and not touch. To scream and make no sound. To cradle my daughter in her longing and sadness and pour out my tears as I watch her father shed his. The history perpetuates itself. The slicing and dicing of families. Every time justified. Every time blamed. Every time ruined. Every time buried.
I refuse to bend my knees.
I lift my middle fingers in defiance to systems that don’t deserve my respect.
I am not ignorant.
I do not speak slander or lies.
I will never be broken by the weight of these things that are carried by others and spewed into society in toxic projections.
I was born to stand in the face of them. To stand separated by glass and steel and push back in love. Not for the oppressor but for the oppressed. Not for the ones who walk in pride and a false sense of worthiness but for those that don’t believe they are worthy. Who are repeatedly told through actions and behaviors that they hold less value. That my daughter deserves to suffer. That she deserves to see her father only through a window. That her years without him are meaningless. That he deserves to be punished. That her father is bad and in some way simply didn’t love her enough.
This anger is mine to bear and I will do so with fire in my eyes. I know the truth and I wear it with humility and love.
This is the truth.
No system. No man. No window. No steel. No convictions. No judge. No powers. No people. Can ever break the love that binds me to this man. That connects my daughter to her father. That weaves the three of us in true power and purpose and creation. There is no lie that can break the truth. For truth stands on it’s own. Unshakable. Unbreakable. Unwavering.
I scream not in fear but in-justice.
In defiance to a morality that knows no morals and feeds on power and self-righteousness.
My love and respect are not for sale.
But on display in windows accessible only to those that reflect it back to me.