I am from pure ocean water,
from waves that hug the beach
and the rest of this floating piece of land.
I am from the wind in the sails of a 420,
from salt bleaching my hair to vanilla.
I am from cradling and running,
until I absolutely can’t anymore,
and my interest becomes little.

I am from split worlds,
from packing up and moving every day
to figure out what a home is.
I am from Friday night highways,
from Saturday spaghetti with family all around.
I am from carving edges into patterns already there,
from the more conservative version,
of toe picks and dresses,
Then only to be the opposite,
from sweaty jerseys and beat up skates.

I am from running my callused fingers over steel strings,
from being free on the stage.
I am from too much good, and not enough work,
from my brother’s turned up toothy smile,
from my friends across this big world.
I am from “Don’t give up” and “Get good grades”,
in the end we’re all still human.
I am from a family,
a family of relatives and friends and companions,
but it is so much more than that.