The lid on my head is heavy, keeps me under a constant state of bringing to a boil. The comfort of this cycle is a habit I fall into even after years and years of seeking another way. Bring to a boil is easy, bring to a boil is comfortable, bring to a boil is exhausting.
Today, I
Today I slid the lid off my head and remembered I had shoulders and torso and pelvis and legs and feet. That I could be light and this did not make me less.
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.
she likes to dream big dreams she gets excited about it all greener grass, driving down curvy roads laying on the sand, watching the clouds
Guest Blog Posted by: E. Brackin Picky. Finicky. Eats like a bird. These were words I would often hear about my eating habits while growing
525,948 minutes Beating, pulsing through my veins That first second like the first drop of a rollercoaster Shooting by Day By Day day one opens: