Helen

Today I shall be Helen of Troy,
With the pink hair clip,
I think you will remember,
posting to me last summer after I left it,
Playfully in your dark hair,

It shines better in mine,
And my eyes can Flash,
And shock you for a second,
Indecent and naked and true in a lost moment,
Viewed only by you,
When I choose not to hide behind my lucid hair,

Here,
My beauty,
I think must intimidate you,
I am a little too bright for day,
So I step out only in evenings,
So not to set the world ablaze,

Yesterday I was Medusa,
I bit my nails so they were sharp with flakiness,
And pulled little red triangles,
The shape of festive flags,
down from the back of my cuticles,
See how they decorated my nervous hand,

The snakes of my hair were unwashed and resentful,
They refused to swish as I wished and dulled,
Into my grey room,
Without you,
You must understand,
And they tangled round my head into nightmares,

As I would wake drunk and alone,

Until I found once more your hair clip,
And decided that I could,
Be beautiful without you

Today I shall be Helen of Troy,
You think I’m joking


      Hope Estella Whitmore

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