victim services.

so today in my prison life class

we had special guests from

the victim services of the TDOC

who discussed the other end

of the spectrum

everyone forgets about the person

who was killed

and the people who

loved them and focus on

the murderers and perpetrators

but luckily, TDOC offers

an amazing array of victim services

to give them closure

and a means to heal and try to move on

and while i was in class listening

and taking notes i couldnt help

but wonder

who is available

to give me closure

and counsel me and give me

a reason to move on

a reason to believe

but what if the perpetrator

who beats me up

who tears me down

who leaves my self esteem in

pieces on the ground

is no one 

but me

kiki/living for the city.

so i spent my spring break in jacksonville, florida

alternative spring break 2009

in charge of 10 other souls, including my own

trying to make a

semblance of a difference

in this world

[with a hell of a recession,

as my mother likes to point out]

and we worked at an orphanage

and i fell in love with a little girl named markeisha

kiki

for short

and she took my camera and snapped snapped

amazing pictures and she did cheer jumps

and she smiled wide and she

loved the color pink

just like me

and the first day i came to visit

i was wearing my pink sunglasses

and she asked for a pair

i told her i would bring them

and wednesday she ran up to me

after school with her hannah montana backpack

still attached to her lithe frame and she 

asked did i bring them

i said yes

she jumped up and down

clapped

gave me a big hug

a big kiss

and said she loved me

and oh, she was a diva

from the moment she put those joints on

posing and demanding pictures of her

to be taken

just like me

and the day that we left

knowing that she'd still be in

the orphanage with no one 

to call her own i cried

because i didnt want to tell her

that i was leaving and i would never be back

because that seemed to be

the story of her 6 year old life

and as we drove away i sobbed

and i asked my mom 

if i could adopt her and she asked me

did i have room enough in my towers 2 single

end of discussion

but im pasting a scrapbook

of all the pictures we took over the week

and sending it to her

so that if she ever gets lonely

and thinks that nobody loves her

i won't be there but

i'll be there

and since then, i'm back at vandy

walking around campus in surprisingly

springlike weather

80 degrees 

but still feeling cold and hard

on the inside 

when i walked back to my dorm

i heard a crazy looking old man

with dreads

belting on the top of his lungs

singing

a boy is born in hard time mississippi

Surrounded by four walls that aint so pretty
His parents give him love and affection
To keep him strong moving in the right direction
Living just enough, just enough for the cittaaaaaaaayyyyy

yyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy yeayyyyyyyyyy

and i smiled

for the first real time since i returned back

from spring break

and somehow he gave me comfort

that things may not be 

all that i want

but maybe they're

just enough,

just enough