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09/06/2016

milk carton kid

Francesca Kritikos

i hold soap in my mouth
to freshen impure words
and when i sleep like an angel
i dream of hell.

we are living in a house
painted white but streaked
with blood. in a hidden box
you keep small parts of me.

i find them and let you have them.
our lives are a movie,
hazy and freckled with voids.
i don’t look too close.

i am walking home from school.
a man in a car won’t let me go.
the sky is sunny like a burst celestial flower,
fractures lining its petals.

i imagine walking through the woods
where streets get cut off until they resurface
with the crookedness of a missing child’s
forest preserve bones.

i am that child
and i am at home.


‘milk carton kid’ was published in 2016 in the UEA Undergraduate Creative Writing Anthology, Undertow.

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