I am from every photo, darken with age and heartache, on my wall.

From the Taylorsville house that sings with vibrant happiness that came only from a time that feels so long ago.

I am from the car rides singing, “Shut up and dance with me” in a blissful melody that only came from those true moments.

From the painted rock only I could call a phone.

I am from the small patches of grass that feel like they were laid for me.

From my favorite kid spaghetti meals, that made me feel like a queen.

I am from the sweet young Katie Bug that was hardened and turned to Katelyn, because of the pain she went through.

From the days when all my family could say, “Life sucks and then you die,” a phrase that rains true on the darkest days.

I am from the day I turned from Disney's Frozen to Broadway’s Hamilton. 

From the day I started to grab ice tea instead of juice.

I am from the day my long dresses turned into a sweater and jeans.

From all the spices used to make my family’s spontaneous meals.

I am from the old board games that used to send brightness through my eyes, that now makes me feel dull.

From the trails that wind around the neighborhood, the neighborhood that always seems to change.

I am from the days I spent hiking around and up mountain trails, just to come down and yearn to be back.

From the nights I sat as old as stone pouring my heart into a stitch made by a crochet hook and thread.

I am from afternoons spent inside a world that only could be created by the author themselves, and their readers' minds.

From life's hurricane, that has a narrow eye.

I am from the darkest and brightest days.