I am from my mother,
Who swears I'm the worst.
Whom I argue with but dare say I love.
From an argument that makes me die a little inside.
I am from my Godmother's house my mother once
Made me cry in, and the hatred I grew towards everyone,
From my aunt's nosiness and rage.
I am from my father,
Who taught me that hatred in itself is your enemy.
Who showed me apologies do mean something and that a
Stuffed animal sometimes is your only friend.
I am from my sisters who made me question myself,
Not just myself but everyone around me. Who taught me that
The boy doesn't have to be the hero in the story.
That the girl doesn't have to like THE guy or any guy,
That Women don't need men.
I am from my cousin's words,
They taught me I am valuable and not to taken for
Granted, Who made me believe that I have a voice.
Made me realize there was more than one choice
In my life, and reassured me I did not need a boy to make me
I am from my teachers,
The 7 adults I hoped thought I had potential,
From the downhill of my grades, from the people that gave up on me and later hated me for succeeding.
I am from Every home I've ever lived in,
And the walls who stared at me. My father's home where
I felt trapped, my aunt's home where I felt powerless and from
My godmother's house where I felt worthless
I am from the park next to my school,
That park was a place I went to (to) feel happy being alone,
That later on also made me feel vulnerable to everyone.
The place I thought was my second home soon-
-became to feel like me 1st home I tried escaping
I am from The school that made their life mission to destroy me from the inside out. Whom I thought
was my savior from home yet seemed to be more like a
I am from a picture I let define me,
A volleyball that hit me in the head so hard
That it felt as if someone had finally knocked
Some sense to me.
I am from the stupid name my mother calls me.
“Ash”, I definitely am Ash though because
God only knows I've been burned so many times
I might as well be Ash.