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.
Still breathing I am no matter the weight of your words like a virus flying through my veins multiplying, infecting my beautifully calm, decisive platelets
Tiny brown beads sizzle in my non-stick pan, slowly enlarging. I stick my nose closer to get a whiff of the mustard seeds I’m pickling
Illustration by Jill Kimura Scream: A Woman’s Dream INT. Dacha turned conference room. Two women (one Korean-American, one Indian-American) sit at the head of the