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 the tightened jaw I’ve become accustomed to.
Though my tightened heart still spills the memories and my tightened mind still spills unyielding questions that will forever go unanswered,
Today without you, and with you, I’ve returned as myself, the weight of your passing, a boulder I’m learning to carry,
A boulder that pushes me to get stronger.
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.
I am supposed to not care or not be bothered by it, but I am. I am supposed to be able to balance work and
As my year off, sabbatical, leave of absence, whatever you want to call it comes to an end, it’s hard not to look back and
I walk through the drizzling leaves and make a wish on each leaf as if it were a shooting star. The wind sweeps through us