What you have is a loud in my face kind of life that can cut, slice my flesh open
I still walk, upright, one foot at a time, a trail of burgundy behind me—the only evidence of the hurt
It is easy to remain on this lower rung, while you tower above me, seemingly carrying all that you want and all that I should want
I still stand, upright, feet grounded, the dust on my hair the only evidence of inadequacy.
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.
She scrunches up her face and bites her lip, as if the music is coming from deep inside her, Gallops in a figure eight around
The creamy dessert like sauce of cardamom and almond sweep my tongue and I am sitting at my mom’s dinning table plastic table cloth and
Illustration by Tatyana Safronova Written by Parivash Fahim Goff Edited by Andrea Nevin February 2019 She knew there would be no other school now. After