A gaping hole wider than our planet’s surface
Grows inside her
and I watch
Yearning to pick her up in my wide arms and rock her back to whole
Benched on the side lines
I watch the game over and over
Screaming out profanities play after play
But…
it’s not mine
Not mine to play
Not mine to watch
Not mine at all
So I walk off the field
Hoping
Reminding myself to trust
The player
Her ability to fill that hole
Without me.
Sonia Chintha is an Indian American writer who lives in the Washington DC area. She blogs, writes poetry, and fiction. She is also an English teacher who believes that our experiences teach us more than any test. She is the founder and co-editor of Good Little Girls.
The ultimate measure of a woman is not how many balls she can keep up in the air, but in the strength she gives herself
I used to cling, one-handed to sides of cliffs, pulled myself up to every summit. I used to speed downhill-no hands-crash to a halt and