I am from smog and dirt and dust.

I am from the stars.

I am from a house of order and business and saturday family games nights.

I am from creaky hardwood floors and squeaky bunk bed ladders

I am from cracked pavement and flower-freckled fields

I am from street barbecues and childhood wars,

Waged on the battlefields of backyards

and street corners.

I am from sleet and hail and grass.

I am from the morning my parents came back with another one tucked between their arms.

I am from the long nights spent fully awake,

Singing my heart out on a hair brush.

I am from the way lights twinkled in my sister’s eyes when we played at being cowgirls and tyrants and armor-clad knights,

waiting for a princess 

to save them.

I am from waiting in line for the trampoline in our neighbor’s yard.

I am from all the times I tried to grow superpowers.

I am from the caterpillar season,

Spent in glass jars and hidden in broad-leaved bushes.

I am from heat and broken fans and popsicle sticks.