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Where I am From

                                          

I am from reminders

      A string tied around my finger,

      the blurred scrawl of my palm

      But why?

I’m from “I can’t remember,” and

      “I must have forgotten.”

I am from the tip of my tongue

      to the back of my hand

I’m from sweaty socks in my kindergarten cubbyhole,

       accumulating everyday as chilly mornings

       melt into torrid afternoons

I’m from the liberation of shucking wet snow pants

       in the middle of the hall.

 

I am from the momentum of discovering

       those letters linked into words

       and words into sentences

From being a constructor,

       intangibly,

       I could make them,

       rearrange them.

 

I am from dandelion blush smeared on my freckled face

       soon to be mutilated by allergic reactions

From the four-foot dancing wunderkind

       mirrored in your laughter-crinkled eye

I am from beside your hospital bed

       from never understanding

       and from regrets

 

I am from Arcade Fire

       From You never trust a millionaire quoting the

       sermon on the mount,

       and the album I can quote word for word

 

I’m from long car rides home at night

      the dark trees a blur of indigo from my best Crayola palette

      as I drift in and out of sleep

I am from never emerging victorious from the battle with fatigue

        and gratefully waking up to the sunlight-soaked curtains

        of a new day.

    

    

 

 

 

           

 

 

 

Where I'm From

 

I am from donairs and rootbeer

Cereal every morning

Scrambling to get ready for school

So my mom wouldn’t be late for work

 

I am from starting in basketball

Weight on my shoulders

Being the pointguard

During provincial weekend

 

I am from long drives

To Moncton, Saint John, PEI

And even Nova Scotia

And from sports being my life and passion

 

I am from playing flag football

In the sweet, warm air

I  am from fighting with my siblings

Day in, and day out

 

I am from “suck it up!”

“Walk it off!”

I am from video games

Call of Duty nerd is what I was

 

I am from always wanting my brother home

Doing everything with him,

Sharing a room with him

Until I was 11

I am from “you’re so skinny.”

“Put some meat on those bones.”

And even “you’re strong for your size!”

I always agreed

 

I am from being scared to die

Scared to die alone

Scared to lose my family

And scared to lose my friends

I am from thinking all of those things

Before bed from the age 5-11

 

 

 

Where I'm From

 

I’m from aspiring to be a

human Barbie doll

the mind of a four year old

poisoned by the media

thinks toxic thoughts

 

I’m from live music

hypnotized by the drums beating in my chest like

a second pulse

I Hugged Joel Plaskett

 

I’m from second hand shops

two dollar shirts that

smell like old lady

when you stop basing your clothing options on

the gender binary

 

I’m from collecting records

the therapeutic popping and

crackling of the dust

filled needle like

wood burning in a fire place

gliding in circles in the

grooves of my beloved vinyls

 

I’m from Joan Jett and Courtney Love

Feminism was my passion before I knew its title

fighting things as basic as “girl colors” to

heated debates about

being pro-choice and “asking for it”

 

I’m from a musty basement with

that I spent days in

decorated with a tattoo table,

a rock solid sofa that has

destroyed my back time and time again and

a window that is possible to slip out of

 

I’m from aspiring to be a              

low life lo-fi listening punk

“all we are is bad kids” is a lie

we were those kids sitting on the couch

 

I’m from being fossilized in my bed

not willing to budge when I

hear Debbie Harry shrieking “ima gonna love ya too!”

frantically counting how many days before I

encounter 7th grade for the second time

 

I’m from Alf and Full House

at nine years old I was ready to call myself a Tanner

knowing their chaotic households as well as

my own uneventful duplex

 

I’m from “I just made you say underwear” and

the classic rock radio station that

followed me everywhere

absent-minded and un-appreciative

until the shrill voice of Niki Menaj woke me up

 

I’m from a nauseating caffeine addiction

after a while I bought everything with quarters

if I had kept all my

yellow vitamin water bottles

my room would be a barricaded blur of

yellow and plastic

 

I’m Joe’s attempt at teenage rebellion

 

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