At times, I breathe ice
cold smoke pillows out with each exhale, no fire can melt this breath of lone ice.
At times, I breathe fire
gray smoke escapes my nostrils,
I exhale truth, a truth of liquid flames
—a windstorm of longing to belong.
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 wish I could let go of you You with your crushing sarcasm laughing at it all like it’s no big deal– to treat me
Illustration by Wendy Nogales Scream is the Heart’s Pound Prolonged by Rosa Parhizkar The sound of rockets hit my ears at a rooftop dinner table.