I am from the gert farm, bunk beds, and ladybugs

I am from the pink house, the white house, and the apartment

I am from the small, then big, then small again

I am from the grass, sunflowers, and the big ugly tree in my front yard

I am from the Thanksgiving dinners and easter egg dying with the mamas, the cousins, and Billy

From being the first ones there, and the last to leave

I am from the Bailey Danflous song of dreams, and we found you on the porch

I am from St. Catherine's church with my white communion dress and my bowling pin

I am from the French quarter with gumbo and crawfish

I am from the dad who chose to stay and the mother who chose different

I am from many different places where memories are held; good and bad

Pictures hung over fireplaces, the sunroom, and plain white walls

Many different homes and struggles that have left me with everything I am today