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”