Breathe. I instruct. Turn the paparazzi flashes off.
Breathe. And listen, grab the handles tight.
Feel. Their rough edges inside your palm, painting callouses onto virgin skin.
Don’t. Let your body, mind be dragged behind you, ripping to shreds like stewed chicken.
Breathe. And see that tiny dim light–light years away, forty light years away. Channel all your fight towards that star.
Because blood sheds before new skin.
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.
Warm rays cut through the sunroof onto my arm; it was a forty degree February afternoon. The road was oddly silent and empty. Neil and
Color My Palate. On the Road. Last weekend, my dear writing pal Karen (http://www.splatospheric.com/)asked me if I would participate in a blog tour about “My
A Backyard Symphony by Diana Vaniotis Illustration by Tatyana Safronova Edited by Parivash Fahim Goff Metallic chimes write the melody As crashing waves pound the chorus.The