Christina Cicchelli is an eccentric artist and poet in Austin, TX.

What’s It Like to Be So Small And Die

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I am eight years old

I wake up to

a red-rimmed hole

I hear her cry

when he comes by

always at night

always at night

Sniffing between big sister’s thighs

Blood trickles down the steps

That’s what you get

That’s what you get

for punching glass

Help me clean, she cries

The morning air is so cold

so cold