Two poems by Brittany Helmick

My Self-Care

I’ve learned, is to keep
my lavender growing. My
daughter says she is
scared to go to school. Says
she is worried because
the president hates
Mexicans. I pulled
the sage from my pocket
and wrapped her fingers ‘round. She
asks where the place is for
little half-Mexican girls like her. I
kiss her freckles and tell her
it is here – in this poem
& this poem is the woman
standing in every locker room,
saying we will not be silenced
we will not be silenced; do you hear?

American Bones

tonight the moon is
so dark yellow
i    am       sick
the gravity of
my chest has
pulled a thousand needles
to my skin
this woman has grown
too familiar with dark apathy
i have watched her dance
like dust
on a mantle

at night she turns
into a ghost
& cooks her ashes
for her children
& dreams of
leaping back
into her body