i come from the paper and pen.
i come from the cute and the bruises.
i come from the wounds healed with kisses.
i come from this place and
i come from these people.
i come from him and her and you.
i come from my mistakes.
i come from my poetry.
i come from the blank page and
i come from the full page.
i come from the words.
i come from the meaningless “i love you”s and


from the meaningful goodbyes.
i come from the sticks and stones.
i come from the whooshing rivers and antique




train sets.
i come from the opinions.
i come from the facts.
i come from the arguments.
i come from the make-ups.
i come from the auditions and interviews and





callbacks.
i come from my favorite hello and my hardest




goodbye.
i come from stupid things i've done.
i come from my futile attempts to fix it all.
i come from trying to make everyone happy.
i come from making myself miserable.
i come from the ice.
i come from the snowstorm.
i come from the spring that melts the cold, dead





winter.
i come from the sun that kills the envious moon.
i come from the guilt.
i come from the lies.
i come from the fear.
i come from the darkness…

but i will leave through the light.