I Am From...

I am from baggy shirts,

from Nintendo and Organix

I am from thin white walls,

(Hollow, stained,

It felt like a mother’s love.)

I am from the ocean tide,

The touch-me-not,

concerned with safety, consumed by paranoia

I’m from the Christmas pickle and crippling depression,

from Michael and Doval

and Dawn

I’m from panic attacks and abandonment

From “Yes, ma’am,” and “Stop lying!”

I’m from fractured spirituality,

My many-faced gods.

I’m from Dallas County and broken homes,

scrambled eggs and sugared rice.

From the red dress my mother wore to my eldest aunt’s wedding,

the bruises on my middle aunt’s thighs

Family pictures lost when her second marriage broke,

their baby pictures are saved on old cell phones.

I am from broken women who break their daughters

We survive, but we do not live.