I am from the crevices of my imagination, area of the unknown.
I am from whatever I make of this useless world.
I am from a place where numbers are far more valuable than life itself;
where opinions no longer matter.
I am from a loving mother, who will forever remain deep within my heart.
I am from a broken family unit, where only holidays are significant.
I am from no struggles, simply a burden bestowed upon my mother.
I am from extreme protection, where physical damage was never an issue.
I am from something fixable, something I’ll get over.
I am from whatever I let society make of me.
I am from a seed which bares roots to ground, imparting to me fruits of knowledge.
I am from a sea of thoughts, thoughts that are only understood by one.
















I am from a string of words, words that depict my inner workings, like cogs of the heart.
I am from history, the experiences and knowledge of my ancestors instilled to me.
I am from people who cared for one another, who worked extremely hard to achieve their goals.
I am from people who believe family is the only thing you can truly have.
I am from a place that can’t be described thoroughly through only the use of words.
I am from a place that is said to be real, but in reality can’t be proven.
I am from a place that will only make sense to me.
I am from a place that will always remain oblivious to humanity.
I am from a place that can be better, but never will be.
I am from a molded society, waiting to be redesigned.
I am from myself, my actions, thoughts, experiences make me, me.