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Where I'm From
I am from whinnies of horses in the backyard, from red shutters and the first house on the left.
I am from mumbled prayers, from cries of despair as mom thrusts her hand down Mason’s caving throat.
I am from a monotonous “Good Morning Sunshine” tune dad took pride in,
I am from giggles as I curl my toes just like him.
I am from homemade molasses cookies,
from Manwich sloppy Joes mom prepared before departing for date night with dad.
I am from the sweet M&M host melting on my tongue during family room eucharist,
from Grandma’s raspberry coucan that was all the talk amongst myself.
I am from the crunchy shell of the frozen Ding Dong, from the chocolate smiles dad and I would compare and adore, from the crack of a vivid wine cooler I insist having a sip of.
I am from laughter as the tattered, rainbow patterned ball flew in the air, hoping on the next throw dad would hit the ceiling fan.
I am from weekends in Sheboygan, from greeting Mom on Sunday with embraces as the sun beat on our faces.
I am from the world that “revolves around everyone but myself,” from the rule that when we’re doing one thing, we’re not doing another.
I am from unstable emotions and thoughts,
from constant medication reliance and happy pills.
I am from learning the world is not my problem, realizing all can’t be helped.
From earned money and morals, from right and wrong.
I am from gained independence, broken and rebuilt trust, instances of luck.
I am living a priceless existence.
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