I am from the bumpy backyard—

overlooking the trees and into the desolate farm

  I am from the red plastic sled—

sliding down the hill and into the trees that were later cut down

  I am from nights spent in the living room—

TV blaring and cats barrelling through the house

  I am from home cooked meals—

the smell of pork chops or pancakes wafting through the house

  I am from sticky, hot summers—

ice cream running down my hand as laughter fills the air

  I am from bug-filled hikes through Retzer—

stopping every minute to take a new picture

  I am from swimming and splashing in the pool at Cool Waters—

racing to get a towel before the cool air embraced me

  I am from nights spent by the crackling fire pit—

with sticky marshmallows and crumbling Graham crackers

  I am from a head filled with thoughts—

but a body that won’t make a sound

  I am from a bouncing leg and shaky hands

that won’t stop no matter how hard I try

  I am from the dread of waking up—

starting a new day a jarring thought to awaken to

  I am from colorful pills and weekly talks with a therapist—

the only way I manage life

  I am from a cozy family—

dysfunctional but loving

  I am from friends who support me unwaveringly—

even when they feel a million miles away

  I am from leaves laying on the lawn—

turning into fall shades as the air gets chilly

  I am from the bumpy backyard—

overlooking the trees and into the desolate farm