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Where I'm From
I am from the bumpy backyard—
overlooking the trees and into the desolate farm
I am from the red plastic sled—
sliding down the hill and into the trees that were later cut down
I am from nights spent in the living room—
TV blaring and cats barrelling through the house
I am from home cooked meals—
the smell of pork chops or pancakes wafting through the house
I am from sticky, hot summers—
ice cream running down my hand as laughter fills the air
I am from bug-filled hikes through Retzer—
stopping every minute to take a new picture
I am from swimming and splashing in the pool at Cool Waters—
racing to get a towel before the cool air embraced me
I am from nights spent by the crackling fire pit—
with sticky marshmallows and crumbling Graham crackers
I am from a head filled with thoughts—
but a body that won’t make a sound
I am from a bouncing leg and shaky hands
that won’t stop no matter how hard I try
I am from the dread of waking up—
starting a new day a jarring thought to awaken to
I am from colorful pills and weekly talks with a therapist—
the only way I manage life
I am from a cozy family—
dysfunctional but loving
I am from friends who support me unwaveringly—
even when they feel a million miles away
I am from leaves laying on the lawn—
turning into fall shades as the air gets chilly
I am from the bumpy backyard—
overlooking the trees and into the desolate farm
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