scattered into
tiny
bits and pieces
south
southwest
north
Northeast
hungry
to be glued
back together
they remain–
scattered
They try and try
holding on
with
the click, click, click
of each letter and piece
lighting only for fractions
tiny instants
dangling in between–
but in reality
they are scattered.
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.
What you don’t see is that one inch needle I inject into the skin of my belly every Saturday: the counting to three, the self-talks
Like vultures to a corpse, these strings circle above: grabbing at a limb, a string of hair, a piece of clothing. Long, curvy claws strike: