Each time the seasons change
It rises above sea level
Waiting to be released
Waiting to flood and force
A reboot
Each time the seasons change
It tightens in to the tightest of knots
Ready to break, to allow a clean break
A new start
Each time the seasons change
It builds, it boils, it twists
Filling my eyes, my soul, my body
But there’s no clean break here
No reboot
Just static silence
Until the season changes and it dissolves temporarily
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.
I am productive not overwhelmed I am even at times bored. I am okay but wonder is there more? I am steady climbing up, climbing
My silence seemed like abandonment, neglect, angry to you on those days when I asked for a reprieve, a moment to gather, mourn, feel. It
I have this need well belief really that I simply must be the number one person there for every friend in need. What this means