I am my sister’s silence
                And hand me downs
                The dry skin under her eyes
                 And the holes in her stockings
I am my brother’s mistakes
                And broken pencil leads  
                His empty room
                 And his unfinished books
I am my mother’s tears
                 And her poems
                Her paint water
                 And the map above her desk
I am my father’s laugh
                And discard cigarettes
                The sunflower seeds beneath his bed
                And his mother’s jade
I am my parent’s lost love
                Born from coffee foam
                Floating above bitter
                Easy to swallow
                But difficult to describe
I am a child
              I am easily bruised
             And like my scars
             My smile will fade