Bam! The fireworks erupted the night before. Before I clasped my first breath. A day celebrated once a year. I was born the day after the fourth of July. A smiling family is where I’m from.
Year round, music pursues me. I march to the beats the summer bears. The marching band stomps to the rhythms. Inspiring our sports team to be crafty, run faster, and stay concentrated. Music is where I’m from.
The winters emerge crueler as the temperature continues to drop. My hands endure the cold all winter. No gloves in the world could keep them warm. Watching my hands fluctuate to a shaky blue. A cold state is where I’m from.
My knees chattered as I stood in front of my class. Paralyzed. Chilled. Terrified. My name avoided my attempts to remember. A speech about me and my name deserted my every thought. A timid background is where I’m from.
In the dead of night, my brother’s hamster escaped his cage. A screech from my mom strolling past the rodent’s cage was all we remember. I uncovered bits of colored paper in my room a couple days later. And there he sat. Eating a crayon. Under my bed. A house with crazy animals is where I’m from.
The snow disappeared and heat from the summer engulfed us. We rush back to the lakes we visited the year before. Again the booming of fireworks are shown in the night. I was born the day after the fourth of July. A new experiences is where I’m from.