Silenced voices
haunt the rooms
pressing me to question myself.
Abandoned
and left with words and pictures
from the past
I crouch in the moonlight
counting the seconds till morn’.
Like a lone leaf,
I pirouette down off the branch
and tighten on the grass,
pleading
the
sun
to
rise.
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.
Croissants are the shit. One cold winter day, as my students slowly filtered in before school, L came into my room and whispered: “Would you
It used to be maybe twenty, A mad rush to get to the microwave and then, bathroom Shuffle food in and maybe a brief second
The blame—it stacks high, an unyielding tower of sharp pieces of stone. You assemble and build and construct… So focused on this up surd structure
For a month you freed me of— but now I am the center of the whirlpool, the very current my mother warned me of as