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.
The crisp cool air catches my cheeks, like a mother holding the face of her child in her palms– I gaze back into her eyes:
Swimming in a pool of crimson, she melts, her pounding pelvis contracts: a 3 month reminder now (no longer monthly thanks to modern science) that
I believe in vegging out. For my 28th birthday, N and I went to Chicago for the first time. We were so excited because we