Her words
And hers
And hers…
They are a cage, always reminding me of what’s not there.
My words
And mine
And mine
And ours…
They are a map: black and white instructions on how to escape, how to flip my sights from empty to full, how to live my life…
Instead of hers and hers and hers.
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.
Sunday night instead of grading, unpacking, doing laundry, planning for the week, or working out, I sat down to watch The English Teacher. Surely it
She arrives once every 23 days crazy, blazing, like a tornado she takes it all down people, love, relationships– without prejudice. She cries during commercials,
The Potomac sparkled, reflecting the early afternoon light. Crisp Autumn wind flipped my hair straight up, above my head. I silently walked the labyrinth at
Today I have returned to myself, the weight of your passing, a wound still healing. 30 days have passed. Today, 30 minutes I moved, releasing