I’m from markers.
From Vans and Goodwill.
I am from the hood.
(Dark, busy, and full of pain and screams.)
I’m from diamonds and daisies.
Hard to the core,
And simple but complicated.
I’m from many ballet performances and curly untamable hair.
From nothing and no one.
From the always perfect and never perfect.
From the you’re being overdramatic and stop talking so much.
I’m from the non-religion and celebrates almost anything.
I’m from Cambodia and Afro American.
I’m from lasagna and Pinot Gris.
From the prison cells.
The mistakes, house to house, and from the fists and bruises.