Generational Trauma

I am an adult now.
Which means I get to be terribly sad
While doing the dishes.

I am an adult now.
Which means I have no time for breaks
Or isolation,
When I’m agonizingly grasping for air.

I am an adult now.
Which means I get to handle
things by myself.
As I should,
But it suffocates me with uncertainty.

I’ve uncovered this sea of loneliness
That lingers inside each “grown up”.
We’re all left by ourselves
To decide and prosper…
When most of us can’t even process trauma.
A grown up is only of old wrapping;
Not of an old soul.

I am an adult now.
Which means that I have to work on myself.
As this wounded child
Serves me no longer.
I am not her shelter,
I am her prison,
And she needs to find a light.

I am an adult now,
And I have my own child.
Which cannot,
And will not,
Spend her time playing around
With a traumatized little girl.

Because my mom was one.
And the scared little thing she was,
Created the scared little thing I am.

I need my daughter to be strong.
I need her to rise her fists in undeniable passion,
To move her hips in sheer audacity,
To speak her truth in full volume and with every syllable.

I am an adult now
So I realize the importance

Of being a child.

Image by, William Bouguereau, “Dante and Virgile” (Musée d’Orsay)