My privacy on a platter

Wine. Work. Prison

At this point in my marriage, I`ve gotten used to the fact that there is no privacy. Letters are scanned, phone calls are recorded, and the only tiny bit of privacy I might have is when I`m visiting my husband and we speak quietly. Other than that, my words and heart are on display, constantly under surveillance, which I`ve grown accustomed to, but which I`ve also grown incredibly tired of.

I`m always careful about what I say, and how I say it, and it seems that my rights to express myself freely to my other half were stolen years ago. Lately my mail to my husband has been getting delayed. Where it usually only takes 3 days for a letter to reach him, it has been taking a week and beyond and that is because they are “monitoring” his mail. Why? Mostly likely because they(whoever “they” is at the prison)…

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