Hi, my name is Kelsey. I've been in the JSP community for years. I just wanted to make a little personal poem about my experience recently and vent a little bit.

Prison changes you;
it's not the walls or the bars that hit the hardest,
it's the silence.
The way time slows down and forces you to face
every mistake you ever made.
I had nights where I felt like I'd break,
but something in me held on.
Walking out didn't fix everything,
but it lit a fire in me.
I'm not the same girl who went in;
I'm stronger,
even with the scars.

What did you do

This post was edited by Diutinus on Nov 30 2025 12:21pm

What you do to get locked up? We're you innocent?

What did you do bub

Im gona guess drug related.

Prison isn't made for soft people,
but I ended up there anyway;
I wasn't the toughest,
the loudest,
or the one you'd think could handle that kind of place.
But I survived by being real;
by keeping my head down,
staying respectful,
watching everything,
trusting no one too fast.
I learned quick that kindness is a risk,
but also a strength.
I walked out with my heart still mine;
and in a place like that,
that's survival.

Carried a bag in front of the wrong officer

Spill it kelsey. Did you stab someone?

Inquiring minds must know

Some places drain the softness out of you,
one quiet bruise at a time;
Prison wasn't loud for me,
it was the kind of silence that crawls under your skin
and sleeps there.
You learn fast that being gentle
makes you a target;
so you fold your wings tight,
hide the parts of you
that still believe in kindness,
and pray nobody sees them.
I survived by pretending
I had nothing left to lose;
by swallowing fear like medicine,
and keeping my voice calm
even when my hands shook.
They don't understand.
I never had to fight the world;
just the version of myself
that prison tried to create.
And the scariest part?
I walked out alive,
but some nights
I can still feel the walls
breathing behind me.