Where I'm From

September 16, 2016
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I am from a brick house exploding with laughter,

surrounded by friends making memories that still make me smile on a rough day.
I am from respectable morals and independence learned by my big sisters,
from listening to their ageless punk-rock music to “borrowing” their make-up.
I am from a weak tree house trashed by years of transformation into a “girl’s only” club
a chalk covered driveway and foolishly wishing it would last through the incoming rain.
Sitting in the garage watching thunderstorms cuddled in a Packers folding chair with my dad.

I am from moving boxes and screeching trucks.
Tear-filled faces and exchanging goodbyes with my bestfriends.
I am from relaxation and a lack of planning ahead.
Sleeping longer than one would think possible, or healthy.
I am from whistles and sweaty suicides up and down a humid gym.
Cheers from the bleachers as I try my best not to slip up
“bump, set, spike!” and defense strategies like a second language.

I am from tears cured by my mother’s hug or kiss on the cheek.
From scraped knees to heartbreak —  her contagious positivity helps me strive for optimism.
I am from support and a dollar when I came home with an A in grade school.
My parents being my best friends and inspiration for success in my fast coming future.
I am from wealth and warmth, whether it’s my dad’s breathtaking hug or my newest paycheck.
Filled with happiness, the name of my mother’s favorite perfume.
Bricks replaced with stone, but surrounded by the same laughter I’ve loved since my first breath.

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