The Stigma

On my fathers side,

They ignored the elephant

On the living room couch

And called it toughness.

 

This was how they turned

Whisky

Percocet

Wife and kids

Into therapy. 

 

This was how my cousin

Turned a belt into a noose

In his closet.

 

This was how they called 

my aunt the "bitter black woman" 

stereotype and how they saw

her charge to  dim

A room.

 

And this is how the walls in the living

Room finally started

                      To cave in

from the extra weight

as they sat around and gossiped

about their self-aware sister. 

 

At least no Prozac among them.

I guess this was toughness.

 

mental healthmental illnessstigma

◄ Black Candles

This Closure ►

Comments

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Wolfgar Miere

Wed 13th Feb 2019 07:41

The second and third verses are stand out, although the entire piece is excellent in my opinion.

David.

poemagraphic

Tue 12th Feb 2019 19:45

Paris This is poem is extremely, powerfully, wonderfully, graphic.

Giving insight in a flash to life.

Well captured

Po

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