The familiar surface sinks heavy in my lungs
a vapor of old grimy thoughts, infects my body, convincing me that
I am
not enough,
can’t do this,
will always,
can’t break the cycle
Even though
each day I prove it wrong.
The familiar surface sinks heavy in my lungs
a vapor of old grimy thoughts, infects my body, convincing me that
I am
not enough,
can’t do this,
will always,
can’t break the cycle
Even though
each day I prove it wrong.
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.




Every time we went on the train in India, my mom went crazy for days preparing. She would pack anything and everything in sight, just
Release I am an airtight freezer bag, I cling, holding on to the past till there is freezer burn all over it. They tell me,