I’m an island trying to become a continent
arms stretching out as coral reefs
standing up higher than the tips of the palm trees.
they will crawl onto my skin with their wooden
boats, they will puncture my veins
with their gunshots aimed at my native blood
they say that women are islands and islands
are pretty places where men can anchor
themselves and kick up sand and then leave
when it’s time to return something bigger
but I am not only a mass of land, I am the total
plates underneath them. when I shift and grow
I set of tsunamis towards the mainland.
About the author: Vivian Parkin DeRosa is a poet, writer, and high school junior from the Jersey Shore. Her work has been published in Huffington Post and in several literary magazines. Her novel has been recognized at the national level at the Scholastic Arts and Writing Awards. When not writing or reading, she interns at Project Write Now.