I keep waiting, finger hovering over the delete button,
Inside I know it’s time, cut the ties, leave the memories,
But my anger fills my eyes, runs down my cheeks and I wade through the thick swamp of who am I and will you see me?
Will I see me?
So I leave my finger shaking just over that delete button,
Not taking action, even though my mind clearly states: delete, just delete.
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.
We only talk in brief text messages, can go months upon months in silence, I do not know where you live even, no address, no
Without boundaries, it exists swirling existing in the air around you, never within light and kind warming you from the outside in. Wrapping its arms
Every year I prep for our dinner of two, a tradition we built, just us two I used to float around the kitchen a zing