By now,
the scab should have fallen off—
new skin revealed
—that is what they say, all of them
And I pick at every new scab that tries to form,
opening the wound back up each time it tries to disappear,
I want to feel the warm blood beneath.
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.
Once upon a time in a country far east, two gals grew up– one north, one south Far, far away from one another. The one
Like a rush of wind she strokes the keys, pluck, kluck, klunk Urgently racing the clock
She arrives once every 23 days crazy, blazing, like a tornado she takes it all down people, love, relationships– without prejudice. She cries during commercials,
Year one: get swept away. Year two: design, shop, decorate. Year three? charge up credit card… fix, fix, fix, pay, pay, pay. And– finalize decor,