Trauma is passed down through families like heirlooms
Most people deny this
Others simply turn a blind eye to it because it's easier than admitting you fucked your kid up
Either way it keeps happening
The older generations don't just dump on us though they surely do give us ways to cope
They pass down their vices too
Like mother like daughter
Like father like son
and on and on
But bottling up your feelings will only work for so long before you implode on yourself
So, it keeps happening
The trauma drips down through the lines of family's tar-like
Turning bright, fresh hearts black like coal smut
YOU ARE READING
Musings on Life from a Dead Girl
Poesía#2 in poetry July 2024 Poetry about the life of a girl.