This Is Where I'm From

I'm from stereo speakers
from Fender and Gibson
I'm from the brick path by the back door
rough and chipped
it felt like it left pieces of itself still embedded in my skin
I'm from the Mantis bush
the old Oak tree
that stood as tall as I dreamed I could
it was no surprise when they cut it down too
I'm from the silent dinners by myself
and hands too small to comfort me
from Sally and Emily and Mac
I'm from the drunks and bipolar

from worthless and disappointment
I'm from sinner
never had a chance because God can't love a queer
I'm from celts and kilts
and a little place in Bexley
Dad's liquor cabinet and too much caffeine
from the chair by my mother’s hospital bed in the cancer ward
the block of metal that makes up my father's knee
I'm from razor blades and gauze wrap
the years I spent trying to cut out the parts of me that wouldn't let me fit in
from the people whose faces I don't recognize
only met them in old photos
I'm from "don't think, know"
a house but it was never a home