Wednesday, January 27, 2010

Henrietta (Trauma of the Past)

Henrietta thinks in the form of poems. She’s never filled a page with normative sentences.

Once upon a time, her poetry used to describe intellectual observations of things outside of her life. But now, she uses her poetry to communicate the most private of feelings.

And after reading out loud, no matter how heartwrenching a particular poem may be, she always smiles. Always. Like she’s let out what she’s been waiting a long time to let out.

God, heal me from the trauma of my past.
Never had a loving father to this day
I am ashamed of all the pain of never being cared for.
No one was there for me. God, do you feel my pain?
Free me from it. Draw out every one of many pains.
God, please heal me from all my life’s pains.

Many times I look at people who are worse off
Than I am and I still feel my pain.
I say to myself ,“Great, I’m not as bad off as they are”
But my pain remains. It’s the story of my life’s entire trauma.
It always remains. God, heal me from the trauma of my past.
They say, “Get over it! It was a long time ago.”
They say, “Suck it up! Roll with the punches,
Pretend that nothing is wrong with you.”
You see? But how, can I believe in God,
When God’s representation on earth never showed me love?

I understand my father’s trauma! Slavery and all.
He did the best he could. He tried o so hard.
But our family’s condition was set up
Before we all were born
So trauma and pain of the past lives on.

God heal me from the trauma of the past.
Never having a loving father to this day,
I am hardened by all the pain.
For no one was ever there for me.
The pain.