I am from blank line paper,
From Coca-Cola, and ADHD.
I am from the taste of cold wet soil after it rains,
The puddles that show me a blurry reflection of what I could be.
I am from the parties around Christmas time,
and laughing my guts out,
from my sisters, my brothers, and my gifts.
I am from the arguments, and ****** language.
From being told as a child that I'm only good for 3 things, and 3 things only
and 3.) n o t h i n g,
and stupid, worthless, and dumb.
I am from constant worry about where my mom could be, while learning how to be one myself(For her). Church today? No, I can't. Not today.
I'm from Mexico, Tamales, and Menudo.
I'm from the cold, dark Rio Grande full of snakes,
the water taking me under just as I try gasping the crisp cold air, and the reoccurring feeling of death nearby.
I'm from the fire my Piglet Blanket disappeared in, and from the permanent stains of the water damage my childhood has been left with.
A personal poem of mine.