Where I'm From

Where I’m From

I am from my friend’s house, from Sony and kicking people off my trampoline.

I am from the messy room with the debatable carpet.

I am from gathering chocolate eggs in the backyard and repetitive clumsiness, from Charles and from Imogen, I am from Duckworth, I am from Nicklin.

I am from meals ate on the couch, and fast-food in the car.

From, “Don’t spill that,” and “clean that up.”

I am from a family of atheists who get dragged to church by my grandparents.

I am from Burton-on-Trent and other random English cities, I am from anything fried to nothing else.

From the time I threw my brothers’ necklace into the Ocean, and the time I threw my dog at him. From the time I threw a block of ice at my sister’s face, and the time I threw my sister at a block of ice.

I am from the countless photo albums on the shelf and the pictures on the living room walls. I am from the footage of my first steps, and the hours of kicking people off my trampoline recorded on video.