I am from the leaks in the ceiling 

From the cracks on the walls of my childhood home

From the distinct smell of grass after it rains 

Nostalgic

I am from a box of spilled crayons 

From the burnt candles on my birthday cake

From the static of the television i can feel on my finger tips

From the band-aid that covers a papercut

I am from the nearly empty tea cup my mother clings to

And my fathers facial hair that pokes me when we hug 

I am from my grandmas rocking chair

The one my mother used to sleep on

From 1978, san miguel 

I am from a memory that's almost gone 

From graffiti on old buildings 

From another world, beyond this time and space 

I am from the rock i kicked this morning 

From the coffee in my therapist´s office 

I am in the air you breathe, and the music in a hair salon 

From everything everywhere all at once.