NEVER TALK

Black homes never talk

So I grew accustomed to what the lack of a voice felt like

I familiarized myself with suffering in silence

I became a prisoner to brave faces

And a puppet to suicidal ideations

Because depression stepped in for my father

As I watched my mother lash out for the way

unhealed traumas scarred her

It's hard to undo how the wounds of parents

Bleed out onto their children

Just for it become to the baggage they grow up