Heavy,
I’m so heavy
Heavy full of space
Ballooning out sideways
A resistance band
so, so heavy
Heavy filled with time
I’m so heavy
Heavy flat on the cold floor
weighed down with iron petals
which hang like wings from my back
each clinking and clanking with every step
I’m so heavy– Heavy
Heavy full of rusty old roles
ones that I
just
don’t
fit
into
anymore.
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.
Christmas of 1995. Sam and I were independent enough to give presents using our funds. It was an exciting time. I knew exactly what I
5 pm, in the hair salon. A haggard face stares back, hair in tin foil, legs kicked up on a dirty, torn, burgundy ottoman. It’s
It’s late Autumn. Sunday. Cheery yellow leaves cover the driveway like an aisle for a wedding; we walk towards the front door, hand in hand.