Where I Am From

I am from an old house, built by the bare hands of my grandparents.

I am from craft stores, running in and out right before it closes.

I am from bracelets, a colorful way to express myself.

I am from pastels, oils, and paints, the way the pigment smears on the paper calms me.

I am from flowers, stickers, sassy comments, and swimming pools.

I am from pencils and pens, the only way my life can escape me.

 

I am from long days and stressful schedules.

I am from experimental kisses and coming out as a transgender.

I am from hiding from the light, but being afraid of the dark.

I am from self-hatred and sleepless nights.

I am from hospital trips at 1 am

 

I am from star-gazing,
I am from imagination.
I am from staring out windows,
I am from curiosity.
I am from watching birds, envying their freedom to fly,
I am from pride.

 

This poem is about: 
Me

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