I am from spending endless hours
In the library, listening to the tantalizing whispers
Of the countless books surrounding me.
I am from the salty tears floating
Down my grubby face when I fall
On the ground, and from opening my
Eyes in the filthy ocean water, looking
For shells or hermit crabs.
I’m from the deafening silence of the
Night, creeping up on me and circling
Around my throat, choking me. I’m
From pulling an all-nighter by myself,
My stuffed animals and I huddled together,
An anxious expression coated on my face
As I watch with wide-eyed concentration,
Searching my bare room for
Ghosts and spirits.
I am from writing ten pages when
Only two pages were required, and
From lugging around three Harry Potter
Books at a time during
The second grade.
I’m from burrowing my face in my
Tear-drenched pillow, bawling over the
Loss of a friend. I’m getting scolded in class
For talking too much and from thinking the
World will end because of that one B in between
All of the A’s on my report card.
I am from the moldy smell of my
Dad’s office, the shocking feeling of
Burning my tongue on the scorching hot chocolate
That I was supposed to wait five minutes
I am from Clinton, Connecticut,
My mom all-Mexican and my dad
All-American, from everyone asking me for
Help on their Spanish homework because
They’re too stupid to do it themselves.
I am Stephanie, and I am what I am from.