I’m from love, loss, and longing.

I’m from love comforting me through the rising and the setting of the sun.
I’m from losses I overcome.
I’m from longing of those minutes when life is as pleasant as a warm spring morning.

I’m from love.
I’m from a mother surrounded by glistening hairspray and black hair dye.
I’m from a father building a scorching campfire like a settler from a time long gone.
I’m from a brother fishing off the rickety docks
and becoming Private First Class of Charlie Company.
I’m from a friend making fondant and icing cakes,
who I swear is my secret twin.
I’m from love comforting me through the rising and the setting of the sun.

I’m from loss.
I’m from a compassionate grandmother erased by cancer;
unknown and deadly, it slipped past our fingers.
I’m from a friendship slowly split apart,
from school to school, no longer together.
I’m from a “second mother” fighting.
Through chemo and surgery, the war still digresses.
I’m from losses I overcome.

I’m from longing.
I’m from months of never getting a haircut,
for when its length allows the air to breeze lightly through its golden strands.
I’m from days of writing papers and filling out forms,
hoping to get at least one helpful scholarship.
I’m from hours of losing matches and missing serves,
only to make that one winning shot.
I’m from longing of those minutes when life is as pleasant as a warm spring morning.

I’m from love, loss, and longing.
I’m from love comforting me through the rising and the setting of the sun.
I’m from losses I overcome.
I’m from longing of those minutes when life is as pleasant as a warm spring morning.
I’m from love, loss, and longing.