Consider This: Prison Love, Do you love me? Do you really?
by Deborah Nicholls

 poetry

All day long I hear women telling
each other that they love each
other. When you tell someone that
your in prison with, that you
“love” them, a lot of the time, it’s
a reference to what that person
does for you, or can do for you. Its
an insult to oneself to be honest
about that, but its also interesting
when you think about it. The people
around you in prison who do you
tell “I love you” to? If your
honest and serious about introspection
(which is what prison is really all about)
You say “I love you” to the people
around you, that give you things,
whether it be their time, their
compassion, their energy, or let
you use their hobby stuff or cosmetics,
or simply give you food or a meal. The
link between “loving” someone, and
their ability to give you something
is a direct one, but especially in prison.
The whole environment is compressed
and exaggerated. So everything
is in your face all day, everyday.
So, it takes special attention to
really certain things, like who
you really do love. Is it real?
Or is it environmentally made?
Someone once told me that some
friends are for a season, and
some are for life. Is love seasonal?
Do you love friends really if
it’s only for a season? How do you
learn to love a person for just being
a person? At church? Do you learn
from pets? Or from your parents?
Is loving a person’s qualities the
same as loving that person? Can
you hat qualities about a person,
and still love them? What if they
have no qualities you love, do you,
can you, still love them? Do you love me?
Do you really? Consider this…
Zippy