I am From

Teachers seem to make us write these every year and this one is no different.
Here's the deal.
I'm bored.
You're here.
You're reading my newest edition.
Ha. I'm sorry for you.

I am From

I am from Thanksgiving,

Pretending to be someone cool,

Playing with cousins,

And eating good food.

I am from books,

Summers in the hammock,

My head stuck in ones pages.

I am from school,

Good and bad teachers,

Chaotic classes,

Average grades.

I am from two autistic brothers,

People to compete with,

Hours of Star Wars and Simpson's encouraging obsessions,

Walking to support them every year.

I am from friends,

Always taller then me,

And always making me seem taller then I really am.

I am from mistakes,

And punishment,

And from blown up toasters.

I am from summers almost forgotten,

Dead pets,

And loneliness one can never imagine.

I am from crushes,

Disappointments,

And lost hope.

I am from lost memories,

And nine years of my life I'll never get back.

Most importantly,

I am from words etched in my mind.

The words I can never articulate.