I am from Fancy Farm, Kentucky.

From Brookport, Illinois.

I am from Reidland, Kentucky.

(Still crazy how that sounds).


I am from Fancy Farm,

Homemade chocolate oatmeal cookies

Laid perfectly on the shiny aluminum foil.

A strawberry shortcake blanket

Lingering the smell of childhood memories.


I am from Brookport, Illinois.

From having two siblings and my own room

To being introduced to six siblings,

Crammed like sardines in two bedrooms.

I am from Garden of the God visits,

Viewing the world perspectively.

From journal entries and uncovered secrets.

I am from fields of March flowers,

Enclosed with mixed aromas.

He loves me, he loves me not.


I am from Reidland, Kentucky.

Hopes high that it's my last home.

From rebelling and changing.

Questions floating around like balloons let go to lost loved ones.

"What happened to you?"

"Can you explain your behavior?"

All answered the exact same,


Although you may not know who he is,

He is from a heartbreak inside me.

From endless phones calls and shattered promises.

Uncovered secrets weren't as important,

Until worrying about them became my only choice.

Now I am from sleepless nights, 

Certain songs on repeat

As I casually ask myself the same questions once asked to me,

All answered the exact same,


This poem is about: 


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