I am from used tissues.
From toilet paper and anything within arms reach that I could use to wipe my nose.
I am from staying in the rain just so that they would never see the tears falling.
(Slowly crawling down the creases of my cheeks)

I am from the drooping old tree in the front yard
Where I would sit and stare aimlessly at the night sky
Whose leaves I can still draw in the dirt beside me.

I am from secret stashes of letters I never gave you
From Ashly and Taylor
I'm from the fake smiles and sobs behind closed doors.
From the "I love you"s and "I miss you"s I never said.

I'm from He has someone better
With yet again more tears
And tissues scattered all around the floor.
I am from endless music and long drives,
To clear my mind and help me think straight.
From the heartaches my mother suffered and being the only one to comfort her.
I am from fixing everybody's hearts but mine.

I am from the old Converse box under my bed.
Dusty and whispering my memories to all those who open it.
Baring my soul with the simple lifting of a lid.

I am from tragedies who have longed scarred my body.
From hiding my feelings to protect those around me.
From not being myself in order to be "myself"