I STRUGGLE
BY JIMMY KASHI
I struggle with my mother’s mortality
I struggle for my mother who puts on a brave face, who hopes not to die till her son is free. But with forty-one to life that seems like blasphemy (I hope better judgment takes a hold of me). Every day I hope no harm comes to me, so I don’t have to stress my mom about me.
I struggle for freedom.
I struggle every day, trapped behind a concrete wall with iron bars for doors that have no keys. Not redemption — or good behavior — could set me free. Until they have that life from me.
I struggle for change.
I’ve struggled for the change I see in me. Oh, how I wish that they could see the physical manifestation of the changes in me . . . like wanting simple things like freedom for you and me.
I struggle to be a father to my daughter I struggle to provide for and protect her I’m sorry for the struggle I’ve caused my daughter I hope she knows that I love her.
I struggle for human connection.
I struggle for that warm embrace. That passionate kiss and that good-morning face. The people who I miss must be on a list. We have access to corrections, as a means of connection The Department of Correction must approve my connections?
The struggle is not unique to me. People in this room now have a face they see. Will my autobiography and your physical agency set me free? This is my Beautiful Struggle. | JK
