I am from lightning bugs
in an old cow field with
long honey colored cattails
etched in the last kiss
of a warm summers daylight

I am from pop rocks and soda
and experiments gone awry
I am from big messes
and much too stuffy corners

I am from ‘hush’ and
‘don’t walk so loud’ and
‘sit still’

I am from family complications
and late stressful nights alone
from bad daddy’s and
even worse replacements
that made my little head hurt
I am from things I don’t understand

I am from big scratchy-beard-grandpa hugs;
the ones I’ll always remember him by
and the slightly emptily reassuring mommy ones
that were always way too cold

I am from hop scotch, little brothers,
and old sidewalk chalk made soggy from
the first morning’s dew

I am from loud music,
dark clothes and filled journals
of far away dreamland romances
that I could never have

I am from hard
yet fond beginnings
in a large family and
promising futures galore
very far away from
the things and places
that I am from