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.
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.




In the heart of Del Ray, Alexandria there is a retro-chic southern-ish restaurant called Evening Star. When you walk in, after you look for
Her nostrils close in on the buttercups in front of her, a mustard yellow immersed in a bright green, it’s all new to her nose
In the darkness, I awaken to visions of you alive, thriving among all the people, your friends especially Those I’ve only just now met in