I Am From.

I am from tap dancing in black shiny shoes,
because I thought I was the best.
From playing soccer as a kid,
scoring one goal, which was the other teams.
From dancing around with pom pom’s at school,
because I wanted to be accepted.
From a pool in the back yard,
I would play mermaids in, with my cousin Ashley.
From a park next to my house,
I would play with barbies and polly pockets by my self.

I am from locking myself in the bathroom,
to stay away from him, his heart stabbing words, and his terrorizing hands.
From always being in the principals office,
getting into fights, which i didn’t start.
From being walked all over and bullied,
from the “popular” kids at my school.
From staying up all night, talking to my stuffed animals,
because they were my only friends.
From screams echoing through my house,
while his spit covered my horror stricken face.
From walking through the halls,
while “fatty natty” bounced around, from locker to locker.

I am from cabinets filled with wine glasses,
shot glasses, and beer glasses.
From a bar in the basement filled,
with hundreds of choices of alcohol.
From a mad house, a place I feared because of him,
a place I was not believed in, a place I wanted death.

I am from the idea of perfection,
that dances around in the heads of those who fooled me once.
From being socially excluded in school,
because I wasn’t up to date on my appearance.
From if your not “pretty” by the popular kids definition,
you don’t come close to matter in our corrupt society.
From being labeled as a “dirty,”
because the kids I hung out with were the “stoners.”
From obscene rumors flying off the walls,
there was no way to escape the burning looks from others.
From “a smile that completely lights up a room,”
to a smile that never shines like a diamond anymore.

I am from the sizzling , humid summer I know best,
the one place I can get out and escape this high school bullsh**.
From the one time where I can be myself,
not be afraid, not be judged by the wondering eyes in the halls.
From brown hair that shined,
  in the moonlight, on a sticky summer night.
From big brown eyes, that told a story no one wanted to hear,
and changed gold when the hot summer sun struck them.

I am from disappointment looking me in the eyes,
to proud smiles that warmed my confidence.
From the age of 17, there was cold rooms, at WCTC,
which held my future, my dreams, and everything I’ve always wanted.
From story books, with all pictures,
to huge textbooks, with only words, that I can’t understand.
From mixing up letters in words,
to understanding what the words kind of mean.
From being treated like a child, with no intelligence,
to being treated as a young adult with the world in my palm.

I am from my horrible past, my decent present,
and my outstanding future, I plan to take in my hands.