I am from blades,
from Monster and Kodiak.
I am from the twilight skies on my rooftop.
Angled, Dangerous.
echoing low noftes bellow in the valley where I lay in pieces.
I am from the petals of the Oriental Cherries,
the eroded shoreline
that once safe sanctuary turned
to the eye of the hurricane

I'm from locking myself away from the arguements and
decorating my sister's grave with withered roses,
from Danielle and Grant.
I'm from the rip tides of grief and regret that follows my father,
and the lonesome, aged embrace of my brother,
from everything happens for a reason and
just keep fighting and maybe we'll be alright.
I'm from scorched dreams
And they've kept me afloat long enough
for me to locate and touch down in the shallows.

I'm from Irish, obvioulsy more then tipsy grandparents,
maple syrup rolls and Kool-Aid packets.
From the unfortunate instability of my brother's mountain bike
the speckled, flexed "glass" skin that holds my grandmothers spirit.

Tangled amongst the stinging nettles
Searing away all my past regrets
My background shocks my ground
Raising my cracked, frayed spirits to my spot that's atop the rooftop,
Getting lost in the city of constellations
I come from uncertain outcomes and fatally close calls.