“Where I’m From…”
April 9, 2021
Where I’m From”
I am from the shell of a pencil,
The bristles of a paintbrush,
And the rhythm of a sad song
I am from the upstairs room of a “home”
Engraved with selfishness and hate
I am from violent ocean waves,
The stormy, rigid clouds
Riddled with alarming, yet comforting flashes of light
Peering through the heavy rain and grey haze
Followed by thunder, almost as if they’re in conversation,
Or dispute
I am from lake trips in seemingly foreign lands
For the amount of time I have spent there is neither frequent, consistent, nor memorable
All that seems to reminisce and remain imprinted in my mind is the water,
Always the water
My bloodline bleeds Irish blood, colored eyes, and brunette hair
With fiery red flexes in the midst
I am from dysfunction and animosity
My life appearing as a contradicting,
Never-ending game
A cycle, as if everything repeats
And everything becomes predictable
From respect to those older than me
And the people I care most about
I grew to put them first
Always before myself
I am from order, and composition
Although as I grew up, I lost touch with this quality
Everything always spinning
The world constantly revolving
And not a moment of rest
I am from the distant presence of faith
And the vague remembrance of scripture
A time when I had no care in the world, and knew nothing of what self-worth meant
But had confidence in my stride,
And my Sunday dress
Ignorant bliss
I am from the loud motors of cars on the highways of Conway
The constant reminder of the world’s violence,
Of its rage
Through the media, and gossip
I am from the forbidden fruit
Curiosity kills
I am from the poisoned apple of my favorite childhood film
Tainted trust is all I retained
Kindness can not be trusted in materialistic form
There is always a catch
From the violence,
The life changing decisions,
And the struggle of what comes next
Judgment is always next it seems
I am from the depths of the ocean,
Constantly pondering at where I resign