I keep waiting, finger hovering over the delete button,
Inside I know it’s time, cut the ties, leave the memories,
But my anger fills my eyes, runs down my cheeks and I wade through the thick swamp of who am I and will you see me?
Will I see me?
So I leave my finger shaking just over that delete button,
Not taking action, even though my mind clearly states: delete, just delete.
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.
Moist air tangles my hair and I absorb patches of grass on mountains in the distance through the thin strands of black that brush my
I used spend all this time, Thinking, belittling my work Because I thought you, You didn’t approve, value, Like it Some many words, conversations Played
Saturday, October 27th, I stood on the sweet serene sand wondering which direction the storm had gone. I shut my eyes, inhaled and listened to