A Stenciled House in Blue

by Cristina Medina

CW: gun violence

My child drew a picture

of our house,

me sitting here in the

pouch of the armchair,

my body threatened

with a violence.

The pain was

not extraordinary,


within circle

for eyes

balanced on an

empty triangle.

Six lines stilted,

a blue house.

A cylinder gun

etched to my mom’s


I forgot—

when we are children

we can’t keep from popping up

from where we are told

to stay.

We crumple

the spirograph

screams of our parents.

And now I hear them,

and now they follow me.

He knew

I would never leave this

boxed house.

It wasn’t as if

I was

a child

Cristina Medina writes and edits in Los Angeles. She is a recent graduate of Antioch University Los Angeles MFA program. Her poems and essays have appeared or are forthcoming in North American Review, Lunch Ticket, Angel City Review, and elsewhere.


Artwork by: Senjuti Kundu