Where I
To answer this question is easy
In a very complicated way.
I could answer with my family’s history,
But my history was changed.
I was born on the other side of the earth,
But don’t know that side of my story
Since any record of my family before my birth,
Is vague and not that informing.
So instead of continuing from the past,
I come from what I remember,
But because that information is limited,
Where I’m from is the life that I’ve lived so far.
I’m from the steep, rough driveway
(Running, tumbling, falling down.)
Scraped, cut, needing a band-aid,
Bleeding, waiting for mom to come help.
I’m from the dirty swing hanging-
Underneath the porch.
From the dog that comes to lick me
While I swing back and forth.
From the blazing sun in summer
to the gentle breeze in fall,
From the bare trees in winter
and the pollen in spring that covers all.
I’m from sit down and shut up,
stop talking, that’s enough,
Stop yelling in the house,
Just go outside and run.
I’m from the judgements,
the looks, the stares,
the rumors, and the comments.
About how I look or what I wear,
But I’m not really bothered.
I’m from the expectations
Of how to look, behave, and act,
But those rules are quite useless:
I never follow the straight, well traveled path.
I’m from head shakes, eye rolls, and forehead slaps
Due to the constant questions, I always have to ask
I’m from everyone asking, “did you take your pill today?”
Yes I did, but sometimes I just say what I want to say.
You see, ADHD is a funny thing
And sometimes a little annoying.
But anyway,
Wait…
What was I gonna say?
Oh yeah,
I’m from the cuts and bruises, constantly appearing,
I’ve lost track of where they are,
But each one leaves a scar.
And if you can’t tell, I’m really good at falling.
I’m from the hot summer heat,
From the beetles and the bees,
From marching on a grassy field
Till the grass is dead.
I’m from chicken sandwiches at third quarter break
After the halftime show at all the football games.
I’m from the hard chairs that pull my hair
In the freezing classrooms here
while being lectured on what year
Christopher Columbus sailed the ocean blue
(it’s 1492).
I’m from the laughter
Hidden in the loud and chaotic commons,
From taking food from my friend,
Who’s unaware and sitting right beside me.
I’m from the smell of school buses:
The specific smell that’s always there,
But can’t quite be described.
I’m from covid and zoom
And doing 7th grade band in the garage.
I’m from the increased heart rate
Caused by the assignment I forgot,
I’m also from the “you are capable of more than this”
When they finally see the NTI.
I’m from the sweat stinging in my eyes
From when I had to run - a consequence,
Of that stupid NTI.
I’m from the dresses in 5th grade,
And 14 inches of my hair cut off.
Those were both rewards
for doing stupid stuff.
I’m from the bloody noses
That happened for no reason at all,
From misbehaving in kindergarten
And being dragged, screaming, down the hall.
I’m from running into a no parking fire lane sign
Face first, during a fire drill,
And when we went back inside
I then ran into the door.
Somehow,
From all of this, I stand right now,
just to let you know:
Contrary to popular belief,
I’m not done growing yet.