Finding the Real Me | Teen Ink

Finding the Real Me

October 19, 2009
By Anonymous

Deep inside my heart and soul, is my mom, who tells me, “I love you,” every day,
And my step dad talking to himself, or
Yelling at the T.V. while I confront him, saying, “They can’t hear you,”
And we argue like cats and dogs in the same room.

Deep inside my heart and soul, is my uncle, wheezing
And gasping for air as he asks his wife for his inhaler, and
My other uncle, using terrible words, and influencing me to use them too,
While my grandma yells at him, as they fight like two rats, who just found a piece of cheese.

Deep inside my heart and soul, is my aunt’s family dog, Ewak, who saved me at age 2,
Almost risking my head to crack open, from falling down the stairs, and
From feeding that floppy eared four legged creature, as he begged, like a lion who hasn’t eaten in days for more food, leading him into accidentally biting my fingers.

Deep inside my heart and soul, is the clock ticking,
As I lay in bed hoping to stop my terrifying dream, and
The blank homework assignment and sharpened pencil, as
My mom yells at me as loud as a megaphone, “Finish your homework!”

Deep inside my heart and soul, is the steaming hot buttery pancake,
On my sharp, metal fork, being put straight into my mouth, as
My tongue melts the precious taste, and from boiling hot mocha coffee,
As hot as Las Vegas on a sizzling hot summer day.

Deep inside my heart and soul, is glistening blue, cold, but refreshing water,
Of my outdoor pool, in Las Vegas, NV,
And skinny-limb trees, their leaves falling so slow,
Like a snail in a race to the ground.

Deep inside my heart and soul, is the pole that I ran into,
Causing me to gasp for air, and suddenly making me fall down and faint,
As my deep and close friends watch me in terror,
Like a person standing on top of a building, afraid of heights,
Hoping I won’t die.

Deep inside my heart and soul, is the melody of my favorite song,
Floating in the brisk air as I hear it being played on the guitar,
And the feeling of my Aunt Marian’s golden retrievers,
Charlie and Missy’s soft, furry, and glowing golden hair,
As they sit by me as comfortable as someone lying on a fluffy, white cloud.

Deep inside my heart and soul, is not only who I am, but where I’m from.

The author's comments:
I hope people understand that you aren't only from a place. You may be born on a certain day in a certain place, but that's not the only thing that represents where you're from. You are from somewhere no one else can get to.

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