Where I'm From

By , State Center, IA
I am from an aged house

impossibly steep stairs,
a deafening window air-conditioner.
I am from the juvenile yard
beside a barn so weak it could barely stand,
beside a garden filled with syrupy scented blossoms.
I am from a modest, white toddler bed
camouflaged by Barney stickers,
radiating alcohol stench after my mother removed the art.
I am from a restless lot of young cattle
“they’re more scared of you than you are of them”
my father would reassuringly preach
I am from a living room floor with the burnt-orange colored carpet
scrambled eggs were shared as Goosebumps was on TV
every Saturday morning.
I am from a bedroom shared with my brother
where he loved one book so much;
we could never read my selection before bed.
I am from an American Girl Doll school,
one miniature wooden table,
I taught in the corner on my bedroom floor.
I am from the falling rain
our elderly, long-haired dog, Nikki,
passed away one numbing night.
I am from two households,
each with a strict NO-Christmas
in any shape, sound or sight
before Thanksgiving policy.
I am from the middle seat,
a grumbling pick-up truck,
my dad and bother, the chocolate wafer to our Oreo.
I am from colossal amounts of popcorn
every afternoon, with preceding cousins
forced to watch Arthur reruns.
I am from a kitchen where tragic
eggshell/meatloaf accident was witnessed;
she learned not to trust a young girl with a secret.
I am from a tree in my grandmother’s yard,
the cheating stepladder I used,
needed to reach the branches.
I am from letters left by Santa,
Times New Roman, 12 point font,
always stating how proud he was.
I am from a disheveled barn
filled with measly, ever-hungry farm cats.
I am from a hill in a snow-covered corn field,
pulling him up with our sled,
I was convinced he “broke his leg.”
I am from grandparents
eating out almost every day;
if Hickory Park sounds good, go visit Grandma and Grandpa.
I am from vibrant food coloring,
the burning scent of vinegar mixed
every year on Easter’s eve.
I am from a fishbowl,
never staying occupied for long
despite the numerous attempts.
I am from GameStop,
employees are like family,
good-hearted, nerdy kids are never in shortage.
I am from best friends
currently gaining new interests
and growing apart.
I am from a white Cavalier
driven by a boy who, after almost two years,
never fails to drive me insane.
I am from pay checks wasted,
video games and unnecessary
quite frankly, stupid items.
I am from a driveway,
nothing but the best, Kraft Mac’ and Cheese,
shared with never-ending conversations.
I am from a not-so-recently updated bedroom,
a living, working collage of my life.
I am from experiences; I am from my memories.





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