I stand atop a giant waterfall,
in my sharpest bikini, hair pulled back,
stretched, ready.
You? the gorilla glue
under my feet,
keep me in place,
firm and unyielding.
So I bend my knees, wiggle my toes,
fruitless attempts you say,
it doesn’t change my drive
to leave you:
a parasite whose stringy fingers travel my core,
eating away every ounce of light.
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.
My eyes are steady now, my guiding light in this tunnel, shining the light on all the wrongs that could be should be must be
For two days leading up the New York trip, I sat in anxiety. I was to go with a friend I knew well, a friend
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
Autumn’s first frost forms, a thin layer of crystals cover the blades of grass we take our early morn’ family walk, thinking thinking thinking i