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.
My friend, Walter, stood about five feet and eight inches tall. He had sparkly warm blue eyes, weathered pink skin, and an electric, infectious smile. His wild eyebrows were often furrowed reflecting his deep thought, worries, and sadness. I met Walter after he was discovered living deep in the wild Northern California mountains.
Croissants are the shit. One cold winter day, as my students slowly filtered in before school, L came into my room and whispered: “Would you