Joanna

Where I'm From

New Recording 11.m4a

I am from the broken stand mixers,

From ketchup chips and sour roll up candies.

I am from the purple walls with chipped wallpaper underneath

to the monsters that crept in the basement.

I am from the smell of chlorine filling up the house,

to fingers so cold they would turn white.

I am from the magnolias and the small maple tree that never fully grew.

I am from waking up at dusk to getting ready in a crammed gondola,

From boots so tight my feet would bleed and the bruises up my arms,

From cold rainy days and broken chairlifts, and muscles so sore they felt like noodles.

I am from Thanksgiving in October and blue eyes,

From older siblings and the competitions that never seemed to stop.

I am from late night drives with my sister and kayak rides at sunrise.

I am from Trivial Pursuit on Christmas and watching Spirit 'til our power went out.

I am from “Be quiet!” and “Speak up. We can’t hear you.”

From putting on fashion shows for the parents, to singing until we lost our voices.

I am from a small town in Germany, to an even smaller town in Canada.

From a big neighborhood in New Jersey, to an abandoned road in Vermont.

I am from climbing up the biggest cliff in British Columbia, and hitchhiking through southeast Asia.

I am from the cracked family portrait and the bookshelf filled with maps.

I am from the never-ending stories.