Origin Story

February 5, 2012
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I am from cinnamon bread,
From too-small beds and too many people,
From the books stacked around my room.
I am from warm pants right out of the dryer,
From rainbows and aluminum foil,
Broken headphones and a too loud laugh.
I am from ditch water,
Frozen over and cracking.
From the messy handwriting
Scrawled on the walls in green crayon.
I am from wrapping paper,
Crinkly and brightly colored,
From my dad’s prickly moustache.
I’m from the deserted beach,
The flour stains on grandma’s apron,
The wild horses,
From the That’s a girl? and Looks like a boy to me.
I’m from the hole in the toe of my socks,
The bedtime stories
(never the same one twice),
And the tennis ball fuzz stuck on my clothes.
I am from bagels and cheese,
From the pet snake called Snakey,
The sharp smell of Sharpies,
And the dimples on my brothers’ cheeks.

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