Like landmines in a field of daisies, you live
buried all over the soil
and I—
unknowingly, frolic through
catching. every. mine
on my way—
petals explode, stems split in half
and I—
I push my organs back inside, sew my skin back together
Every. Single. Mine.
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.
All the “should haves” pile up: one on top of the other and blind my vision. I stare at the cards I’ve been dealt, my
Baby bulbous bubbles sprout to the surface spiraling to the top and bursting into fizz each eager bulb excitedly bouncing around; they spin together playing
Sunday morning I awoke to the worst reminder ever: You are Human! I hadn’t taken my medications for the RA and had neglected to take
