I am from stomping on crisp autumn leaves on the sidewalk to home,
(Crunch, crunch, crunch)
I am from a whiff of a cold winter morning
From burning wood at bonfires and chimneys that linger on my thin hair
I am from singing birds in early spring
To summer road trips and long daydreaming,
With alternative music playing in the background
I am still from hidden journals and beat-up sketchbooks,
From mix CDs and mix emotions,
Classic literature books, piano sheets, and hand written letters
I am from broken hearts and teen angst
It has made me want to burn old photographs and shred melancholy poems
Though I must not feel afraid of where I have come from
I am an exceptional fragment of my past
Inspired by George Ella Lyons’s “Where I’m From”
