I stand atop a giant waterfall,
in my sharpest bikini, hair pulled back,
stretched, ready.
You? the gorilla glue
under my feet,
keep me in place,
firm and unyielding.
So I bend my knees, wiggle my toes,
fruitless attempts you say,
it doesn’t change my drive
to leave you:
a parasite whose stringy fingers travel my core,
eating away every ounce of light.
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.
Tuesday night, after a crazy day of feeling stressed and sitting in traffic for forty-minutes, I came home to a warm dinner made by my
She arrives once every 23 days crazy, blazing, like a tornado she takes it all down people, love, relationships– without prejudice. She cries during commercials,
Burning brightly through the window The sun’s ray cut into space Warming every inch Filling it to its brim Crackling kindly from below The fire
