I see through your game of pretense; the game of tag that has no end.
I see through you time, even when you slam minutes into the crown of my head—a hammer to a nail: pound, pound, pound
I see through you fear, even when you drag me to the edge of the cliff and taunt me from below, firing image after image of endings and uncertainties.
I see through you all
For I am above—
A sturdy mountain of truth and nothing is moving this mountain
Not today!
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.
Illustration by Deema Alawa Brown girl, fragile by Sonia Chintha I swim in the clear soup of your fragility A backstroke that inevitably feels like
Period one: Close eyes to meditate with a circle of eleven eighth graders, hear a giggle, slide eyes open and supervise with stern looks. Try