in a mossy,
I murdered the little girl inside of me
when I realized all my other little girl friends didn’t even know they were little girls.
I knew my
were quite contrary.
When they saw scars, I saw the war.
When they saw trees, I saw the seeds.
Far too young,
I understood that being a little girl
was not what would keep me alive.
So, I lived on
– – – –
That little girl has been kept in a tomb for
Her spirit whispers in my ears from time to time.
I’ve been afraid to resurrect what I thought had to stay dead
in order to survive.
Now, to survive,
I must resurrect what died.