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Helen Wendell May 2018
I fall in love with small kindnesses.
The world is cruel, and you are not.
And that is all it takes to win me.
Helen Wendell May 2018
What therapy does?
It validates the reasons
I’m still mad at you.
Helen Wendell Apr 2018
There are days when I forget
Misremember
Wander
Lost in a cacophony
Of bruising thoughts and jagged
Tumultuous
Phrases
Rising from my mind like rocks
To break skin and
Snap bone
Words that are leveled at me
By my own lips
Or yours
Words that settled on my heart
Crooked and cruel
Scarring
Lurking there always even
When I know most
Are lies
So I have written new words
On my body
My skin
Bears marks
In permanent pain and ink
Indelible
Phrases
To turn to when I forget
Misremember
My name
The ways in which I am good
Worthy of love
Desired
Courageous and deserving.
Mixed feelings about this one, I've never shared a first draft before but I'm feeling the need to express myself today with an anxiety inducing work trip approaching. Hope y'all like it. EDIT: V.2.0 I don't love the last part, I'll probably keep working on it on and off.
Helen Wendell Mar 2018
Look, its just chocolate
And only the ears are gone
Please stop crying now
True story.
Helen Wendell Mar 2018
this doesn't end well
the moment i chased
that glimmer of light
across your cheekbone
with lingering eyes
on the first evening
i knew it would not

and still

i reached out my hand
to trace the glowing
curve of blood warm skin
because how could i
with eyes in my head
and a beating heart
pretend to deny

such beauty

when your lips tilted
sly corners lifting
you spoke words from my
childhood my home my
own place of safety
as if they were yours
too and meant something

profound

and it was over
between one breath and
the next my heart was
no longer mine but
i did not notice
until it was too
late to look away

to stop

the way i turned my
whole self towards you
inevitably
compulsively like
magnetic north or
a sound in the dark
you were laughing and

lovely

this doesn’t end well
but it could and does
it matter when you
lean into my side
the thought blazes through
my veins whiskey warm
that it might be worth

the end
This is very very new and I'm still fine-tuning it. I think there will still be some revisions but wanted share and hear what y'all think. It's about a person I loved once.
Rhianecdote May 2015
Doing work experience
in a nursery, aged fifteen.
All mood swings
and low self esteem.
Feeling self conscious
cause my face was spotty.

Little girl of about 3 
comes up to me and asks
"Do you have chicken pox?"
Proceeds to tell me
What her Mummy
had done to help hers
And if I'm gonna get up from my seat

Cause you may be Moody,
You may be spotty
But you can still come
and play hopskotch with me.


Rid me of my newly found vanity.
Made me laugh so much,
Put me at ease
That level of inquisitive innocence,
Without any judgement,
That blessed naivete.
I don't think there's a
more endearing quality.

**A little one rarely fails to
restore my faith in humanity
I've been studying childhood recently and its hard to argue that it's not a social construct because children often have differing experiences of it. A lot of children grow up too fast and some don't have one at all. Maybe it's western bias but in my eyes it is a travesty because i can't help but think that some of the qualities that children possess (keeping it simple, honesty, the inability to hold a grudge, being mindful)  we could all do well by holding on to in this social construct called Adulthood

— The End —