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.
Each year it stares at me from the wall next to my desk. May 19-June 8: the state testing window I glance at it in
As a college student, I lived my life dreaming about endless possibilities. Each day had the possibility of being completely meaningful and vital. I was
The creamy dessert like sauce of cardamom and almond sweep my tongue and I am sitting at my mom’s dinning table plastic table cloth and