Get Your Premium Membership

Where I Come From

I’m from small town homes and rose bushes overgrown, with Close-but-not-too-close-close-knit-crazies. Where my best friend lives down the block and I make late night trips to her house past the town curfew, because I am from just inside the city limits. Where I can’t drive underage in a non-road-legal vehicle on the road but I do it anyways. From hydrangeas to big dead oaks with darkened limbs and forgotten branches. Unattended to hidden ponds with sand dunes keeping close company. Winding trails through the woven pines and golf cart rides through the night. From two tracking at 2am, to popped tires riding on rims all the way home. Bruised up and down and scratches I don’t know how I got. I’m from sunday night football with crockpot cheesy potatoes to rolling blackouts and chasing charter vans down flat onto our bottoms. Muddy heels to get to the dance and paying seven dollars to watch my hometown football team lose. I’m from where smoking our meat and video games in the garage is a party but we are the only company we need. From corny jokes inside and out and witty humor, none taken. From where insulting one another is nothing but love and curfews are often a thing of the past. Descending from lovejoys I am often filled with both love and joy, I’m from oddballs and country folk yet we have evolved. I’m from soccer games even when it’s raining. From no quitting all the way to you tried your best. From high- highs and even lower lows. I’m from the land of schnitzel, pickled beer, and pizza. From ‘go play outside’ and ‘walk it off.’ Nuts and bolts for christmas snacks to ‘honor thy mother and father.’ Sunday school lullabies and don’t use his name in vain, following all the common Godly precautions. I’m from waking up early just to see the sunrise even though the trees are a war barricade from the burning fire you long to see. I’m from the fog that made my acres of yard an abyss that I can’t see through, even though I know what’s there. I’m from family trips and a loving home, missing it when I’m gone and hating it when I’m there. I’m from supportive love and ‘can’t isn’t a word’. I’m from you can do anything if you work hard enough, and whether you think you can, or think you can’t, you’re right.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2019

Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.

Please Login to post a comment

A comment has not been posted for this poem. Encourage a poet by being the first to comment.