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6/6/2011 12:46:54 AM lauren hornaday Posts: 1	For four years my relationship survived On collect phone calls Around which I scheduled my life And Saturday afternoon visits Leave the house at 11am For the long drive through Sin City Out of town and through the desert To sit outside with the same familiar faces All nameless Waiting for our inmate's name to be called And hoping our outfits aren't too tight, too blue, or too short For four years Our "date night" consisted of microwave hamburgers, mini bags of chips, and bottles of soda Purchased from the row of vending machines along the wall Paid for in quarters from my regulation clear plastic bag For four years Our physical fulfillment came from One kiss in One kiss out Holding hands across the table Knees touching This is what I looked forward to The least lonely day of a series of lonely days Summing up to four years But eventually he got out The dream each of those nameless faces was waiting to come true, was true No more collect calls No more prepaid accounts No more rides to the middle of nowhere No more strategic outfits or getting patted down or bags of quarters We made it Clueless of the coming fallout The aftereffects The struggles and expectations Suddenly aware of the lies that we told ourselves to get us through And that incarceration wasn't the only thing preventing happiness All I know now Is that the phone won't ring anymore at 8pm And on Saturday I sleep in and do laundry I don't go anywhere so I don't get dressed up He is trying to figure life out And I am still sitting around waiting Only now the waiting is endless We might be out of prison But prison won.
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10/25/2011 4:43:48 PM dean wood Posts: 6	i like it. im too just from jail and i can understand how it must be for those outside. put more feeling facts and thaughts is all i feel. very good though or am i just byest? -- wood nead
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