I am from cream cedar and burgundy bricks.
From yards where bones break,
to sidewalks where children fell.

I am from talkative neighbors, and up kept lawns.
From parents yelling “ You can’t be here!”,
and children banned from homes.

I am from red faces and knotted stomachs.
From rudeness of others,
and regrets filling a dumpster.

I am from 9 o’clock masses and pews filled with church goers.
From mission trips and church classes,
to Christmas masses and disappointing Christmas dinners.

I am from “It only hurts if you let it.”
From Tim’s car being whipped around as the car speeds away,
and terrifying tornadoes heading straight towards his car.

I am from plaid shirts and blue jeans.
From blonde to brown hair,
and eyes that change color.

I am from “Mangia!”
From hiding food under my napkin,
to “ Eat all of you food.”

I am from skiing and racing but never being adored for accomplishments.
From not talking to people on the team,
and being ignored by coaches.

I am from playgrounds burnt to the ground.
From being afraid to talk with teachers and classmates,
and the opposite with friends.

I am from relatives being sick a lot.
From no absences at school,
to CT scans and endless doctor appointments.

I am from looking behind my shoulder.
From scanning streets and peoples faces,
and hiding in closets at unknown sounds.

I am from vivid dreams that I can never remember.
From not knowing if it was true or not,
and thinking about the dream for hours.

I am from soaring through the air like a bird.
From flipping as gravity pulls me back down,
to hitting the ground and leaving dents.

I am from multiple obsessions.
From late nights watching seasons of television,
to the movies and books that make my imagination run rampant.

I am from the different worlds and different ideas.
From different people and different families.
I am different.