The last shreds of her cocoon linger, drawing blood as it breaks, the pain as fresh as that first burst so many decades ago,
her wings are almost free,
but she keeps looking back at the safety of her casings:
yearning to be free, yearning to crawl back into the warmth of her former self
Split in two—two halves of one.
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.
Wispy strands of air whip my body, a gentle massage only a winter’s morn can provide; I tilt my chin up into the brilliant blue
It’s easy to look back and make my life seem so worth it. At the same time it’s just as easy to claim all of
Molecules of clean chlorine break over my swim cap as I push past fatigue, breathing bubbles. I begin another spin down the chemically pristine and