Where I'm From

I’m of bad hair days and loose fitting clothes
Of a woman who smiles to much and
Of my little brother’s disease.
I’m of shoelaces and broken clocks,
Of rusty harmonicas and bands I don’t like.
I’m of black nail polish and dead roses.
I’m of a boy who burns
And of his dark blue bedroom.
I’m of blank pieces of paper,
Cigarette smoke,
And empty pill bottles.
I’m of “I love you” and
Of “I hate you.” I’m of therapy bills
And escaped tears. I’m of deep breathing
And walking alone in the rain. Of classrooms
With empty eyes and even emptier smiles.
I’m of crashing cars and graveyards.
I’m of stolen innocence and vanilla perfume,
Of daydreaming and nightmares,
Of red wine and bulletproof glass.
I’m of imprints of black, charcoal fingers and
His paralyzing brown eyes.
I’m of blue, spilled ink and
Primal screams. I’m of tornados, gasoline,
And loosing at checkers.
I’m of uncomfortable Sunday clothes
And heavy Bibles.
I’m of the color black and
Of pizza and pirates.
I’m of betrayal and friends
Which lately have destroyed who I am.
I’m of ashes and snowstorms.
Of backwards hats,
Black jackets, and secrets.
I’m of long hair and motorcycles.
I’m of break ups and of breakdowns.
I’m of long, love letters he kept in a bottle,
Expensive diamond watches, and lighters.
I’m of lit up
Skulls and of iPods with broken
Screens. I’m of truth or dare and
Hugs that never end.
I’m of “goodnight” and
“I hope I never see you again.”
I’m of his hands and of
Yellow lava lamps.
I’m of “Stairway to Heaven” and
“Bullet for my Valentine.”
I’m of loud heartbeats and
Shallow breathing. I’m of his drawings,
And the sounds of his electric guitar.
I’m of Facebook song lyrics and
Campfires. I’m of Green Day and
All twenty-one of their guns.
I’m of baseball games and sympathy.
I’m of sunburns, frostbite, and
Of carelessly told secrets.
I’m of that last moment
We shared in the hallway, only
Minutes ago.