What you have is a loud in my face kind of life that can cut, slice my flesh open
I still walk, upright, one foot at a time, a trail of burgundy behind me—the only evidence of the hurt
It is easy to remain on this lower rung, while you tower above me, seemingly carrying all that you want and all that I should want
I still stand, upright, feet grounded, the dust on my hair the only evidence of inadequacy.
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.
When I met my husband, I was 31 years old and he was 24. My experience dating men his age was light and forgetful. Still,
Illustration by Allie Olivares On Becoming by Ridhika Tripathee I walk through the park yearning to feel I allow myself to move for hours step.
You hurl lies again and again -— with earnest eyes that pierce through mine and lie easily without fear And break— the trust I value
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