Skip to main content

I Am From

I'm pretty sure everyone has written one before...so this is mine from 5th grade :P


I am from dishes
from fresh milk and bristling brooms.
I am from the gray house tucked behind the school
so sweet and safe.
I am from the fluffy golden dandelions
the pear tree
whose sweetness
stays in my heart.

I'm from happy Chinese New Year and hugs at night ,
from my loving parents and my sweet sisters.
I'm from walks and cleaning the house on Saturday
and from helping each other with hard housework.

I'm from no hitting and eat your vegetables
and Twinkle-Twinkle Little Star.
I'm from Christmas and neatly wrapped presents.
I'm from pretty Wisconsin and amazing China,
Sweet moon cakes and delicious dumplings.
From my silly sister falling off the bed
her two feet up in the air.
Sugary memories of family times
in my heart
tucked in sweetness
but never forgotten.
Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

9:58pm

[simpler days happier shades not knowing what it meant to be afraid] before it all comes crashing down, I promised you [I promised you I promised you I  --] hey the way you used to swing across the monkey bars, iridescent, irreverent hang on [callused broken swinging drowning flying] break me into pieces at the edge of the valley I'm clinging to yesterday but it's endless rolls of purple [and blue] like the taste of seafoam swallowing me whole
Post a Comment
Read more

empty spaces

what is it like to sink into the silent seams of empty spaces  to close your eyes and let your heart roll away from under your tongue as if it never occured to you nothing would ever fit the same again like all we have lost is wonder
Post a Comment
Read more

Unburdening

Too many things lie between us, quivering, quaking in darkness like silence, or a laugh being shoved back down your throat. I press my cheek against the top of your head, your hair burning with the fidgeting fingers of the sun, listening to words that have no shape, or sound, or feel, just words that sit like fat potatoes between me and you, words that build up like gum under school desks and surround you. Tendrils, thin wispy letters, dig their way through your skin, overgrown bean plants. Everytime I try to pull one down, they rip at your skin and you cry out. Your silence floats like a feather, suspended below my mouth; when I speak it flutters with the fluctuations of my voice. Too many things hold us at a distance, two lone figures across each other, toes at the edge of a seemingly uncrossable gap. I heave stones into the darkness, my hand tight around yours, placing trust and love and faith and understanding like stepst...
Post a Comment
Read more