I’m from ancestors I pray to for protection,
I’m from doctors and molesters.
I’m from a life fast as a river,
to the night we opened the door and shivered.
I’m from being Mom and Sister,
from bee stings and blisters.
I’m from ride or die,
from kissing my family and friends goodbye.
I am from believing in myself,
from a family who needed help.
I’m from sad memories to happy family dinners,
from losing a race to the science fair winner,
from the personality of ocean fish
to playing in the woods, blowing a wish.
I am from a girl to a lady,
from growing up being my granny’s baby.
I am from pork and greens to cheese sandwiches,
from bells to switches.
I’m from traveling many miles
to faking smiles,
from a tree of strength,
a history of length.
I am from the inside out.
I am from a place where violence won’t cease,
to hiding in a book for peace.