Stop You’re Doing It Wrong Helena Hopkins Poetry

local_library Stop You’re Doing It Wrong

by Helena Hopkins

Published in Issue No. 249 ~ February, 2018

I went far to ask him

he was hard to speak to


what’s your face?

show me your name.

he was hard to look at



how should I feel?

feel like a turtle in its cave

feel like a bat in its shell

don’t touch it bites

I remember a time


the time was a turtle I lived inside

teachers called me sweet

on the playground I kissed Cody

threw rocks at him too

they said that was wrong


I had a cave with a bed inside it

the bats raised me to sit still

Pain stays out of the dark

is what they said

until he didn’t


I fell off the merry-go-round

a rock got stuck in my knee

my nail ripped off

pencil-lead in my hand, they sent me

to the nurse


the nurse raised me to always

wear a shell, Pain can’t break

through a Band-Aid

but it ripped, I was poisoned

they sent me to my parents


my parents raised me

with love because

love conquers pain

but I was weak

lost the fight. I was always

on the run, the chase sent me

to a cave


a dead end

I sat still so he could take me

I was raised to hate pain

they said it could kill me

they sent me to him like a soldier,

an assassin to a faceless enemy

killer of the foe behind the curtain

but I saw him—they said not to

I felt him, I kissed him

they said it was wrong.

account_box More About

Helena is a sheep farmer and freelance writer from Westfield, Indiana. Her poetry has recently been published in AMP.