I Told The Truth
I told the truth
and it was enough to ruin, more than one life.
Not because it was false,
but because it would not move
out of the way.
They did not argue with it.
They closed around it.
Rooms do this.
So do systems, built upon Brady violations.
I learned that truth does not shout.
It stands.
Strickland vs Washington is a mountain rarely successfully climbed.
And standing at the top is unforgivable
where all others are forced to kneel.
They asked me to explain myself—
again,
and again,
unable to allocute their reason,
until explanation sounded like guilt
and clarity like refusal.
I watched lies pass freely,
given chairs, given time,
while truth was told
to wait outside
in the cold stormy weather.
There where I was at they mercilessly assaulted me.
They did so without hope thinking because they were never getting out they had to.
For nearly seven years they rearranged my world, so my words could not survive in it.
Innocence was called, I am, and was naïve.
Inconsistency was called obsession.
Pain was called behavior.
I did not break loudly.
But silently in great distress.
I learned how to disappear in their world,
while still breathing.
If I stayed alive,
it was not out of hope.
It was accuracy.
I knew what was real
and I would not let it be erased
it was hidden by repetition.
This is not a redemption.
This is a record.
I told the truth, on the stand.
Where most are instructed by their attorneys,
not too.
It was of course not enough, at eight thirty in the evening,
the jury asked the judge to be suquestererd and judge menendez the Chief judge said to return to there room and stay until a verdict they found.
They returned thirty minutes later with a split verdict, where with a high probability they would have found me innocent, had they been allowed to go home to return the next day.
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