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I Am MeI am from the pile of crumpled pieces of paper on the floor, from Kraft, moving trucks and slamming doors.
I am from that one place, then another, then back.
I am from clover and chains, the meters of wilted sweet in the sun.
I am from tacos at least once a week, from Michelle and Corey and Gaston and Douglas.
I am his "burrito", his girl, his one, where insult-based humor is the norm and words are never enough.
I am from a place where I knew only of the backyard and my bed, from being dragged between home and home. From "carrots will give you boobs" and "Papa's monkey, Nana's dolly, Momma's baby".
I am the kind of person that places my life within a song, then lives it to the tune.
I am from tearful emotions and poor poetic writing skills, from not caring and continuing writing this anyway 'cause I can and I have to.
I am from a family where isolation is a reward and dinners consist of silence with a side of awkward.
I dream of lights, laughter, love, and life. Of e
Instead of living in the depths of rain,
Look up and see the stars, tinted with grey and green.
Listen to their hum, the sound of their voices, as they lull you to sleep.
Above, they guide you,
Leading you to where you want to go and where you need to go and where you should go.
Where saltwater turns sweet and tangy,
And shivers clear the path for the new.
Yellow is there, warm,
Shining as pure as the heart.
Overhead, they, the stars, shine like stars, as stars do,
Vibrant and echoing through the night,
Embracing a light devotion.
Yet, they never dampen
Or fade away;
Unending as the spirit.
ViolinI remember the day
you told me violins
were strung with cat gut
and that is why
you hated music
(who says that to a child?)
I followed you
all that summer.
I watched you
grow away from mother -
your whiskey held better conversations
and all she did was cry.
We'd sit cross-legged on the porch
and count the horseflies
settling on our lunch.
You would drown tadpoles
in a bucket
surprised they could not swim
and I would dream
of cherry popsicles.
And when night would gather
on the sidewalk
I'd hold my breath
until a star appeared.
Don't bother making wishes
you'd tell me -
stars are dead weight in heaven
and God has cloth ears.
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