I’m from paisley pillowcases and stained white carpet.
I’m from fleece and overalls,
orange leaf piles and the gentle hum of air conditioners in august that
sooth me to sleep.
I’m from the hairpins, hairspray, acrylic nails, shouting and favoritism,
The boyfriends that visit and remember to bring gifts.
I’m from the “I love you a trillions,” and “I love you more than the stars,”
the hugs and the kisses and “I love you more’s”
I’m from the sleepless nights,
endless adrenaline, and of course
the anxiety that crawled under my skin when the sun
started to set.
I’m from matching pajamas…
(his were blue, mine were pink)
the late breakfasts in our creaky apartment,
the rats whose names were forever changing,
(Butterscotch and Cotton Candy stuck the most)
I’m from unspoken bonds and brother-sister promises,
a role model who glares and swears and tears me apart
with her words
yet loves me unconditionally, and the
two very confused souls trying their best to take care of all of it.
I’m from the twenty-one lady slippers that
grew in our secret garden, rare and pink
and fragile, but appearing every summer,
constantly there, embedded in the earth,
just like the love that surrounds me;
Sometimes concealed
by cold that can kill, yet always appearing
at the right time.