I have a job now. And if anything, this has to be the best possible position of employment that one person could have while incarcerated. The freedom of being where I am, but mostly, the solitude. The way my skin can fill not only this space, but that empty place in between bars and steel. The way having some thing gives you this sense of purpose. This sense of - actually being able to feel the flesh upon your wrists. And even though I know this place I speak does not belong to me, in prison we hang on to what ever it is that allows us serenity, and sleep at night.