Release
I am an airtight freezer bag,
I cling, holding on to the past till there is freezer burn all over it.
They tell me,
I should throw it out,
It’s no good anymore,
It’s weighing me down
Stinking up the freezer
Yet
I am steadfast in my ability to remain here
In the cold, the past gradually spoiling my insides
It’s smelly and comfortable
It’s all I know
So I scoot further back so no one else can see me, only smell me
Every time they open the freezer to get an item to eat.
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.
Saturday, October 27th, I stood on the sweet serene sand wondering which direction the storm had gone. I shut my eyes, inhaled and listened to
With a bruised thumb and index finger I draw a line—thin— in hopes that it will widen, between you and me. But it’s dotted, at
What you don’t see is that one inch needle I inject into the skin of my belly every Saturday: the counting to three, the self-talks