"I am from" poem
I am from the lingering smell of burnt food at my moms, The overload of take out at my dads, And split time between the both of them. I am from late night hangouts in the dusty attic of our garage, The spine-chilling sleepovers on the trampoline to see who could make it till morning, And being woken up in the afternoons to music echoing off the walls. I am from each of the houses we left behind, Abandoning pieces of my heart along the way. I am from sneaking out, Paying for it later, And doing it all over again. I am from family movie nights, Licking salt covered butter at the bottom of the popcorn bag, And not noticing the disgusted faces starting back at me. I am from all of these childhood memories along with many more, Locked inside my brain to never be forgotten.