Today I have returned to myself, the weight of your passing, a wound still healing.
30 days have passed. Today, 30 minutes I moved, releasing the tightened jaw I’ve become accustomed to.
Though my tightened heart still spills the memories and my tightened mind still spills unyielding questions that will forever go unanswered,
Today without you, and with you, I’ve returned as myself, the weight of your passing, a boulder I’m learning to carry,
A boulder that pushes me to get stronger.
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.
Illustration by Deema Alawa Confession by Sonia Chintha Confession: there are times when I bash mothers (the holy grail of humans) because there are times
Cinnamon, chillies, ginger, garlic, cilantro, country chicken, cloves meet for a slow dance. It’s the type of modern dance that makes me shiver. My insides
