By now,
the scab should have fallen off—
new skin revealed
—that is what they say, all of them
And I pick at every new scab that tries to form,
opening the wound back up each time it tries to disappear,
I want to feel the warm blood beneath.
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.
The sharp scent of chlorine winds its way to my nostril. It’s not a gentle greeting, nothing here is. No. But, I know this choreography
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
I coast softly with the wind, towards shore. Sunlight holds me up; moonlight towing me in. A vast ocean of rights and wrongs behind me:
Boys will be… Responsible, kind, empathetic, respectful, Seekers of Equality: Fighting to Debunk the Stereotypes imprinted onto the fabric of their skin before they are