I come from silence.

I come from being told what I should be, and being what I am.

I come from long talks about opportunities

I come from cold showers in the summer and laughing at other peoples laughter.

I come from taking chances and learning to play the safe card instead.

I come from watermelon seed spitting contests.

I come from kissing in the rain.

I come from no time, to spare time, to time standing still.

I come from my senses becoming dull and the world around me fading into the black.

I come from inhaling the sent of freshly mowed lawn and having the smell rejuvenate me like an electric shock

I come from my eyes lying to me and wishing that my ears had deceived me too.

I come from leaving,

To being left,

To being left,

To being left,

To feeling lost.

To being outlawed by my family for saying no to being spoon-fed.

I come from never believing in Santa Clause.

I come from learning beautiful songs, to writing sad ones.

I come from watching the sun rise, then set.

I come from being the tickle me pink in a box of charcoals.

I come from learning that being different isn’t always a good thing.

I come from being told I might never see again.

I come from trying to be strong.

I come from going to the doctors far too often.

I come from being healthy, to being very sick.

I come from finding out I’m not alone, to finding out I’m incredibly loved.

I come from finding what truly makes me happy, to finding out who makes me happy.

I come from being afraid of rejection, to putting myself on the line and blowing it.

I come from then and I’m thinking about now.