I Am From...

I am from the thick, scratchy carpets,

                              polished hard-wood floor,

                              the cold metal rails of a bunk bed

                              and crumbling chalk from an art case.

            I am from diamond-studded earrings,

                              a golden bottle-shaped clock,

                              the withered, torn, teddy bear,

                              and a grandmother’s delicate jewelry.

            I am from the birthmark on her left cheek,

                              her slightly crooked toe,

                              the scar left by a broken leg,

                              and her thick eyelashes pushed up against her glasses.

            I am from unconditional love,

                              sibling rivalry,

                              pinky promises,

                              and unbreakable bonds.

            I am from the continuous British rain,

                              the sweet fragrance of flowers,

                              coarse spices,

                              and napkins placed neatly on laps.

            I am from small mistakes,

                              big consequences,

                              the constant shifting of blame,

                              and meaningless apologies.

            I am from false hopes,

                              crushing realities,

                              broken promises,

                              and utter emptiness.