There is No Shame in Progress
Helen Robertson
for Allison
I think I may be using you
I have not been taking care of myself
And left alone I see no need
For a dog knows how to craft a burrow
And one of trash and self loathing
Can still be a shelter
I’ve turned your worry into an excuse
You should have best in show
Not a rescue who shies away
From every third touch
Knowing what you deserve
I try to do better
And it chafes in my throat
Stagnant — rotten
This food and water
I have long left like poison
Like chitin in my stomach
Each trickle and morsel tasting of greed
I think I may be using you
But you assure me I am not
That this is love — not exploitation
Though my well may need priming
My garden bone meal
That dignity and confidence
Is not theft
Helen Robertson
Witch, bitch, and full-time disaster Helen Robertson is a trans, bisexual, genderqueer dyke moving through the lifelong process of accepting how lucky they've been; using poetry to excise her ire and sorrow — hopefully turning it into something worthwhile. They are a member of the poetry collective VII.