I am from a home. A home filled to the brim of laughter, love, and messes. Unfinished projects, unfinished answers. Unanswered questions, confused children. Knowing the answer, but never to sure.

A family, tiny, but tight. A close knit blanket of warmth. At home when I need it most.  Counting on it, never to leave, never to let me down. To feel warmth-love and life.

I am from a busy home, content, but pushed over my limit. A stressed box, where the smiley sun shines through. An ongoing conversation of “you can do it,” “we can do this,” “we will do it,” and “we have done it.”

A brick wall that crashes to the ground, yet continuously the strong wiggly wall builds itself back up. A bitter cup of black coffee, with three dashes of sugar and spicy life. A busy traffic intersection, where crashes occur. But the sun still and will always peek through.