my mother has always said that here,
our house is too big.
that this mess of white picket fence and evergreen trees,
are more than we need

but my father loves it here.
he's always made it abundantly clear,
that this is where our family belongs,
this is where he has a good job.
he seems almost ashamed of where we come from.

rundown rentals in midwest towns no one cares about,
is where i come from.
chain link fences,
and labrador mutts,
and childhood romps though corn fields
make up my memories.
my personality
my ability to love casually
and not have everything end in heartbreak

here,
i have stopped loving so easily.
i have stopped placing my trust
in the hands of my peers,
they're more strangers than friends anyways.

my father tells me,
"stop being so cynical
you're fifteen you should be grateful"
and it's not that i'm not
it's just that here,
i am desensitized.

new phones,
and televisions,
and other things that go buzz in the night
are regular for me.
so please forgive me if i don't realize
that i am being selfish.

i don't know anymore.

i don't know,
if i am spoiled because i have a nice phone,
i don't know,
if my ability to donate to charities
actually grants me the right to a holier than thou perspective,
i don't know,
that if i met my seven year old self,
that she would like what she saw.

i used to be disgusted by the lifestyle that i am living.
i used to think,
that because i had less than other people,
that i would be better off in the long run.

i stared at designer purses,
and nice cars with disdain.
as if,
those material things were the symbols of the people i disliked the most,
ones that i had characterized as vain
and shallow.

i still don't know if i hated them because they had more than me.
it's a possibility.
because even though it's the hate that i remember the most,
i can still recall the nights that i wanted more.
the days,
when progresso soup dinners weren't appetizing
and my barbies looked old and worn.

guiltiness still permeates my skin.
i feel bad for all of the ungrateful crimes that i have committed
they are like sins for my atheist soul
ones that i cannot repent.

and i know,
i get it,
i was just a child.
i didn't know any better.

but that doesn't mean that i can forget
so easily.
it doesn't mean,
that i'm ready to give up the privileges that my parents sacrificed for
it doesn't mean,
that i know how to make it up to them.

but my mother has always said,
that here,
our house is too big.

i'm starting to think so too.