Where I'm From.

I am from the place of
Christmas sweaters
and hidden diaries,
melting into
the couch cushions.

I am from where you
finish what you start,
where kimchi and spicy beef and
squid is a representation of love.

I am from the deficiency of toys and
girly
things,
where I lack what she gains,
and she never lacks at all.

I am from the reflection of a pair of 80's glasses,
where everything is secret
and do not call him your father.

I am from mismatched clothes and chubby cheeks,
innocence manifested into adulthood, and hatred.
But a Beauty and the Beast birthday cake is available upon request.

I am from grandma's insistence of
my Chinese blood, and my
adolescent denial, and my
mature regret.

I am from a
gun in the
Christmas sweaters, hidden
intents, hidden secrets, hidden
motivations, hidden
bitterness, and visible,
pure, raw
pain.

I am from the manifestation of short stories and memories and books of Chinese philosophy and blood and more blood and silence, impending silence, beating me across the head
until

I am from nowhere. I am from
everywhere.
and it all sinks
deep down
into

the beautiful

                  barren

                               earth.

[Originally written in February 2011. Posted on the joint blogger account on September 8, 2011. Edited March 24, 2013.]