I am from a blank canvas, from Microsoft and Chanel.

I am from the speakers (big, booming, filling your ears with noise).

I am from a Hibiscus flower, the vibrantly colored petals found in

warm climates.

I am from the fights and stubbornness, from the inside jokes and

hearty laughter.

I am from the beautiful moving pictures and books stacked high on

shelves.

I am from the brunette, the blonde, the black.

From the one little red whom I’d never met.

I’m from the calloused fingers and tears in hearts, the imaginations

that have been suppressed for much too long.

I am from the flower speckled fields, guitar picks and sketch pads,

the nosy and the defective.

I am from what was once empty, but now ever growing, ever

changing, filling the blank spaces on my canvas as I go.