Manifesta

It’s not yours,
it’s ours.
An olive bitterness seeps out of the scar,
and it will forever.
The plume of green will shadow their parade,
they’ll try to sew it shut,
but their stitches aren’t enough.

This scar,
it’s not yours,
it’s the olive truth
that spills out of me every evening;
that’s when I think about the other girls
like me.
This is every Olive Grrrl’s bitterness.

We will breathe,
and we will seep
into them.
Their whiteness,
we’ll remember.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: