I last seen her a year ago. I’m sure the shock showed on my face. Her face framed of sagging skin, raccoon swollen eyes dull of life and a sad upside down smile said it all. Her oversized attire camouflaged the fragile skin and bones underneath. The reason for her conditioned stood next to her. The man she had chose to love….

No, not from physical abuse, but the emotional and mental stress that comes with loving a man who had gone to prison in his youth. A man that had spend over half of his life behind bars. A man that had been traumatized mind and body. It was PICS [Post InCarceration Syndrome]that he would carry with him for the rest of his life.

In reality he was still a child in mind. Her beat downs came from him not knowing how to love her and had quickly taken the life out of her. Neither were aware of the silence killer that bounced between them. It was the selfish man-child that had been unleashed in the world – her world.

It wasn’t that he meant to be that way, it was the consequences of locking up a child and not allowing the natural progress of maturity to occur from experiencing life.

I recognized the the disappointment, frustration and the shame she wore on her face and in her mannerism. It was the high price tag she paid to love him because I too wear it, but very well. by Penda