I am from many homes
Caucasian and hispanic like blurred ink, a lost message hard to see.
Mother, stranger, stranger, stranger, grandmother.
Crumbly black tar and numbing crunchy snow the bipolar weather of Minnesota.
I am from type 1 diabetes
A “Bro what kind of phone is that?!” only a billion times a day.
Sweet treats I seek, the sweet bane of my existence, a cycle of voraciousness.
A decade of my life is up to me.
I am from hysterical laughter
When your body drinks it up like medicine always needed.
When laughter feels like breaking free from a mundane day, weighing you down like an anchor.
When your shoulders shake, like an earthquake and you could give birth or *** your pants.
I am from a guitar
My most beautiful sister, friend, and possession
From her sleek, royal blue body to her glimmering shimmer of glitter.
She sings and hums with me in the serene hours of the night
She creates the reflections of the songs of my soul.
Apr 2
Apr 2, 2026 at 11:34 AM UTC
I am from many homes
Caucasian and hispanic like blurred ink, a lost message hard to see.
Mother, stranger, stranger, stranger, grandmother.
Crumbly black tar and numbing crunchy snow the bipolar weather of Minnesota.
I am from type 1 diabetes
A “Bro what kind of phone is that?!” only a billion times a day.
Sweet treats I seek, the sweet bane of my existence, a cycle of voraciousness.
A decade of my life is up to me.
I am from hysterical laughter
When your body drinks it up like medicine always needed.
When laughter feels like breaking free from a mundane day, weighing you down like an anchor.
When your shoulders shake, like an earthquake and you could give birth or *** your pants.
I am from a guitar
My most beautiful sister, friend, and possession
From her sleek, royal blue body to her glimmering shimmer of glitter.
She sings and hums with me in the serene hours of the night
She creates the reflections of the songs of my soul.
This was just a poem I had to write for English class that I thought I would share with you guys.