I am from running the hills surrounding our house and filling up every last page of my many sketchbooks.

I am from the empty and bitter house that sheltered me as a child.

I am from the gazing upon the stars and dreaming of a better life.

I am from drinking nothing for days and getting food once a day.

From the kicks and hits that only made me whimper in pain.

and knowing the only time of peace was during my sleep.

From the water in my face, taking all of the oxygen out of my lungs.

Hoping that one day I wouldn't come out of the water, or would close my eyes and not reopen them.

I am from the yelling and cursing.

And constant disappointment.

From ¨Whats wrong with you?!”

And “Why do you make me do this?!

I'm from Wyoming Cheyenne

From slops on every day, and pork chops once a year on Christmas.

I am from millions of regrets.

Now I am free. I am me.