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.
I used spend all this time, Thinking, belittling my work Because I thought you, You didn’t approve, value, Like it Some many words, conversations Played
I roll past the same ramp opposite the entrance that was the first door that opened my life to this new world and grin at
I used to hold tight the story that my dad was an excellent cook when he got married, and my mom had no clue. Thus,
Illustration by Deema Alawa Heist of Self by Parivash Goff What ingratitudethis nebulous futurefor methat I rejectfrom you. I tally all the waysI fight your