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.
Illustration by Deema Alawa Confession by Sonia Chintha Confession: there are times when I bash mothers (the holy grail of humans) because there are times
Love is the whoosh of a dishwasher filled uncomfortably to the brim, only to be emptied days later in a hurried, not-into-details way, which results