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.
grief that tastes of absent ice cream bars at the airport,
what is a welcome back to a hometown without a beloved tradition?
a perfectly sweet candy,
gummy to the mouth,
but sticking to the teeth.
konjac eaten too quickly can catch and choke.
gulp it down so that you can save yourself,
In the end, when the rough winds slow and clouds slide away, Warmth returns and I can get strong again and again and again. Today
“You got fat,” he said. “You got fat, grandpa,” I say but I know it’s not true, he’s not fat am I? When was the
“March of 2014,” I told my Rheumatologist last Autumn at my 6 month check-in. “Okay, let’s get your blood work done today; I’m going to