I am from...
   Parents full of good intentions and big dreams, but deep rooted secrets that drown us all.
   An army of Angels, loved ones lost, trying to protect me from afar, but who's indivisible presence is sometimes hard to see.
   A once strong, united family, broken apart by a new generation of bad decisions and pain, no longer held together as our glue who now rest six feet below engraved stones, baring their names.    
   Drama, gossip, grudges, hurtful words, and judgement from those your blood binds you to love, approval found  no where, but always looked for.
?I am from....
   A  dead end street, secluded from the busy streets and traffic that was only a few blocks from my door.
   Chalk covered the streets, music blared from every house, the laughter and voices of friends and enemies entertained us all.
   Secrets buried deep in every home, forever threatening to be seen, hidden from even those who we consider as close as family.
   Bitter sweet goodbyes linger in the air, memories wash away the chalk on our street, my forever home, now empty, disappears from sight as we drive away, my only emotional support behind me.
   Being left alone when I needed support most, my existence blown out of the minds of those I longed for, like the dandelions that once covered the hill around my yard.

  I am from...
   King of the Hill resulting in horseplay that sent a gentle girl crying to her dad, while I stood alone in my victory.
   Building unstable bike ramps hoping they didn't brake, always too afraid to do more than watch with Michelle as the boys played for hours.
   Watching my dad cook out on the deck and singing along to music with Ashley while the whole neighborhood waited for food to be ready.  
   Secretly starting fires with Tanner and Ashley on the back patio, burning anything we could find.
   Playing in the dark, knowing I would soon be called inside, but always hoping no would notice the flicker of the street light, marking our nightly curfew.

  I am from....
   A family who filled meaningless words, repeated but only for the sake of an act that is upheld and seen by the world as endearing, never really hearing the hollow meaning that continues to break me.
   My dad’s protective sayings, "nobody messes with my baby girl," making me see him as a hero, until I saw the truth that he couldn't protect me from anything.
   My mom’s only words muffled by the crushing pressure of college classes and a stream of alcohol that ran through her veins.
   Silence growing, spreading like a virus in our house, gripping our once lively family in a painful grasp, leaving the most difficult lessons to be self taught.
   A child raising her parents, keeping my father from breaking, while grieving the deteriorating woman I had called mom, reminding myself daily, "tomorrow's a new day."

  I am from....
   Rooms piled high with Barbies, babies, and toys, spoiled like no other, playing for hours in my own beautiful imagination.
   Playing video games, dedicated to never losing in Mario Cart, especially to my dad, almost always losing anyway.
   Filling folders with papers filled with drawings and coloring pages, running out of room for more but continuing to draw anyway.
   Losing myself in music and imagining what it would be like to be a rockstar, rich, and living a lavish life free of pain and sorrow.
   Stealing my dad’s camera to take pictures of anything and everything, finding beauty in every photo, when I found no beauty in reality.

  I am from....
   A diverse taste of music, forced to hear every type as my dad dj'ed weddings and parties.
   Raised on country and rock, always playing in my house, I knew every Gretchen Wilson song just as well as every Guns and Roses song.
   Dreams of Hannah Montana, Cheetah girls and even Justin Bieber  just as much as other girls, wanting to go to every concert.
   A home where rap wasn't music, raised to hate everything about it, never allowed to listen to it in my house, but secretly singing along to every song with Ashley at her house.
   Growing a love for all music and finding comfort in lyrics of songs that shined light in my darkest moments.

  I am from...
   Bed time stories, too many to count, stories that hold memories of my mother’s voice.
   Watching Happy Tree Friends with my cousins as they formed my dark humor and created a sick, twisted child, so young.
   Becoming obsessed with horror movies, watching them at night after a morning of SpongeBob.
   A mixed assortment of media, both dark and beautiful, that has made me a princess of a new sort, darker than most.

  I am from...
   A bad temper that makes mountain out of mole holes, for the sake of a fight.
   Stubbornness that forces me to fight and make harder decisions than I should have to.
   Gentleness and kindness that can be mistaken for being a follower, but really just allows me to pick my battles.
   And silence in tough situations, not inherited at birth but forced to live in silence as a struggling child, still silent as an adult.

  I am from....
   Commitment given to those who don't deserve it, but always holding unwavering hope that they will one day earn it.
   Faking a smile so the world doesn't see your struggles, a weakness you shouldn't let others see.
   Forgiving the past but never forgetting, secretly holding hidden grudges until you breakdown.
   Dreaming big, but expect no support because dreams don't earn money,
   A home where a child is of no use as a child, only when you become an adult can you find purpose….?