I Am From

 I am from the old, red bricks of my house,
From the bushes and trees that decorate the front porch.
From dozens of spider webs in the bushes
that glisten like diamonds in the light.
I am from the inconsistent smell
that ranges from mouth-watering chicken to revolting raw sewage.
I am from the black goliath that distracts me for hours and the video games that aid it.
I am from German sheppards and pit bulls,
From their daily walks and monthly baths.
I am from the chicken, pasta, steak, and vegetables I look forward to each night.
I am from the blaring alarm at six in the morning,
And the “Time for bed” at ten o’ clock at night.
I am from Philadelphia, Chicago, Las Vegas, and Gambier.
I am from a family that’s like a bag of mixed nuts,
each with a different color, texture, and personality.
I’m from embarrassing photographs
and boredom-inducing school studying
I am from the music I listen to,
the stories I write,
the characters I create,
the joys they bring.
I am from nightly storms that keep me awake at night,
and the smoldering heat that greets me over the summer.
I am from all of these things,
like a complex equation that adds up to me.
A complex equation only I can understand,
and I hardly understand it myself.