We Never Recovered

How do you heal from years of trauma inflicted from one generation to the next? How do you carry the weight of pain that was allocated on you just because it was too heavy to keeping lifting? I am convinced that the residue from years of silenced fears + broken families + illegitimate children coupled with physical + verbal abuse has seemingly disabled us. It has seeped into our homes, coated our walls, soaked our furniture + broken our spirits. We are branded with the scars of perilous times + memories of the middle passage.

Meanwhile our smiles are stoic, our vernacular is smeared with the intellect of winners because it was etched in our veins. Standing on the shoulders of bloody backs + objective bodies; yet we succeed against all odds. Somehow, with years of resilient examples, we have never recovered. I never recovered from my absentee father + over worked mother. I never recovered from the failed relationship of my parents + the taboo topics never discussed in my house. I never recovered from witnessing abusive men + passive women. I never recovered from watching the villainous addictions + the ravaging intellectual diseases. The damage of it all has ruined generations just from the mere fact, we survived it.

As we quietly rise everyday; we amicably try to deal. We deal with the blank stares + the careless vernacular that escapes homogenized spaces. We deal by silently moving throughout our lives gathering up the remnants of past lives; self- assured that you never recovered. You never recovered from the damaged families + abusive fathers + silent mothers. You never recovered from the patriarchal environments + demeaning spaces. Though we look deeply, we feel even more deeply the pain of each other. Despite it all, I am unequivocally clear that I never recovered, but neither did they.