all the pieces
they add up—to desires, deep yearnings of belongings that are not mine to have
they hover, slap me with icy fingers,
each time I look in the mirror
so I follow the clouds, eyes exhaling hunger—an empty vessel, I sweep the sky strapping myself to each cloud
an empty embrace of pieces I will not possess
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.
Stand, greet, smile, shake, sit ask, chat, laugh, connect, advise suggest, nod, bye bye.
I should’ve spoken, it was the time to do it, but in the moment, I couldn’t, didn’t feel I had the right to Who am
“March of 2014,” I told my Rheumatologist last Autumn at my 6 month check-in. “Okay, let’s get your blood work done today; I’m going to
The blame—it stacks high, an unyielding tower of sharp pieces of stone. You assemble and build and construct… So focused on this up surd structure