The Zoo
If the world is a jungle, prison is more like a zoo.
People assume it’s more dangerous on the inside but the one thing every inmate has in common is that the worst thing these animals have ever done is out there amongst the innocents.
Once they’re on the inside, they get domesticated real quick regardless of what kind of beast they are.
The most common are the tortoises, known for two things, their life span and their hard shell.
They were here before I was and they’ll last longer than any of us on death row.
They were broken a long time ago and they throw on that shell as a coping mechanism to defend them from the hell that is this place.
I didn’t mess with them, not much enjoyment when they’re stuck in here for life and don’t give a fuck about anything.
All they will do is keep on walking, slowly and surely until the day they meet their final judgment.
On the opposite end of the spectrum are the hares, bouncing around the moment they arrive high on God knows what.
My ways of torture don’t compare to the pain they endure as their chosen substance slowly ekes out their body and every fiber of then is screaming in agony as the withdrawal kicks in.
It feels like their whole body is cracking into pieces.
Fragile doesn’t even come close to describing how they feel.
I know the cycle though, at a certain point, the withdrawal symptoms go away but the worst day is right before that happens.
That’s when I sneak something from the outside into their cell.
Of course, they partake and the cycle starts over again. I do this over and over again until they get caught with contraband.
That charge becomes worse than the one they were locked up for in the first place and they never get another taste.
What can I say? The devil doesn’t always wear red.
Smack dab in the middle is the coyote.
For the most part, they’re pretty normal.
They freak out because of a new environment but that’s just survival, we all understand that.
They aren’t hard like the tortoise or soft like the hare.
They can handle most things thrown at them but at the end of the day, the coyote has one thing it can’t live without.
Their family.
Their parents if they’re a young cub, their wife or their children if they’ve become leader of their pack.
Which one is it, CJ?
You call yourself the coyote so what part of your family are you crying for?
Is it your parents? I can fuck you up to the point you can’t function in society.
Is it your child? I can take everything from you and laugh in bliss as you suffer.
Is it your wife? No, it’s not even that, it’s the whore isn’t it? The whore you risked everything for.
You freed her from her chains just to get your own.
Was it worth it when you could have just paid like the others?
Sorry, I can’t give you your slut but I can make sure you get fucked.
