I am from pencils,from paper and pens. I am from the sympathetic and warming feeling under my mothers fragile delicate skin. I am from the bright apple tree, with a warm swift breeze carrying the bright colored leaves through the air and land amongst them as if were me caressing, this feeling. I'm from the sweet smell on Sunday mornings and the gentle kisses upon my forehead, from creating your thoughts in your head and doing everything possible to express. I'm from the inspiring and intelligence. I'm from Jays and Belinda's loving sweet voice sound, leaving hugs and forever waits. From the lung grandpa lost to air, and the love my dad lost to opening his eyes. Under my skin was happiness, but also fear spilling good times, lost love to drain mt sorrowful heart. I am from those who love, and those who lost, the sweet melody of life.