Small Cures

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by Della Hicks-Wilson


  stop asking if you are capable of being loved,

  as if being loved had a prerequisite.

  how many refuges must you run from

  before you realize that you

  are the safest place you can go?

  you

  can never leave

  you.

  you should have been your first love.

  it is counterintuitive to think

  that whatever causes a wound

  can be the same thing which heals it.

  so why do we believe this is possible in love?

  why do we think that our breaker

  can be our fixer?

  for years,

  we tried

  breathing under water.

  we tried

  and tried

  until the air gave up.

  she said—

  darling,

  did you forget

  that we age

  like the sun—

  backwards?

  every tomorrow

  we burn brighter

  than our past.

  do not allow

  hard memories

  to turn your

  softness to stone.

  be clay,

  simply coming back

  to the earth

  for a while.

  for a while,

  remember them

  as gently

  as you can.

  you have scars

  from the wars

  that came,

  but also,

  from the wars

  that left.

  the sun

  does not race

  the moon.

  each

  has its time.

  each

  has its place.

  like we do.

  fall back

  into your

  own arms

  and stay.

  stay.

  maybe

  this is the way

  we forgive

  ourselves.

  if tomorrow these wings should fail me,

  or i should fail these wings,

  it is comforting to know

  that somewhere, out there

  waiting,

  are newer, wiser

  versions of me.

  honey, see i told you.

  everything will be okay in the morning,

  and every morning after that.

  yes, every morning after that

  will break. and heal. like we do.

  and honey, you make sure you love yourself

  just as recklessly as they left you.

  there are so many

  other souls.

  and yet,

  we humans,

  all ego, all dust,

  obsess over the ones

  that were never made

  for us.

  there are endings,

  and there are beginnings,

  and the two always meet.

  breathe yourself in.

  and love yourself out.

  breathe yourself in.

  and love yourself out.

  breathe yourself in.

  and love yourself out.

  there is no cure

  for that.

  Della Hicks-Wilson is a British poet and writer of Caribbean descent from London, best known for her short viral poems and spoken word videos, which have garnered over a million likes and shares to date. Her bestselling debut collection Small Cures was originally self-published in 2020 and selected by Stylist magazine as a Best Summer Read of 2020. She holds a BA and MA in English from the University of Cambridge, close to where she resides.

 

 

 


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