Wispy strands of air whip my body, a gentle massage only a winter’s morn can provide; I tilt my chin up into the brilliant blue yellow above.
Lungs: balloon out and release you, it, then.
Simmering in my solitude, I glide towards the woods; branches graze my hair, dubbing me with courage.
Skin: crisp against the wind.
I. Am. On. My. Own.
No desire to bust into your room to vent, cry, dance, let go. I don’t need it no more.
I am me; the me who stands tall like that oak in front of me.
On my own.
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.
They are a secret society, A loud parade, A marching band, A cacophony A band of drummers practicing downstairs They Have It And outside alone
Three years ago, I made three major decisions in my lifetime: 1. To take a year off from teaching 2. To write my first blog
Saturday. Early Morning. Awake and ready— to start vacation; hit the road; clean, organize, clear; fix house matters; eat; explore; listen; budget. Saturday. Early Morning.
The leaves sizzle on the wind dangling in crowds like kids on monkey bars. They twinkle in the early evening sky: stripes of green, yellow,