The flowers are still on the table,
the ones I so hastily purchased to brighten this place of mine
because those colors, they will break up this block of ice that’s burning my feet
but I couldn’t even place them in water—couldn’t give them their most basic need, couldn’t do for them
for I haven’t, haven’t been doing for me—my most basic need.
So they are dying.
slowly, a soft yielding death
while I, I remain standing on this frozen block,
feet numb.
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.
525,948 minutes Beating, pulsing through my veins That first second like the first drop of a rollercoaster Shooting by Day By Day day one opens:
Illustration by Allie Olivares Attention Please by Kelly King The rage I carry threatens to eat me alive. This March, I jumped into leading protests
Muriel the Brave by Diana Vaniotis and Parivash Goff Illustration by Jill Kimura Edited by Parivash Fahim Goff & Sonia Chintha Consumed by the everyday