I am not from the hospital
Where I gave my first cry
I was not born from the
Anatomy of the human body

I am born from the folds of creativity
I am part of my imagination
Imagination that came from a girl
She
Is who I’m from

I come from the anxiety that I am forced to face
Every day as I must be a part of the world
I come from the fears
I had as a child
What’s under the bed?
Heart racing as the lights switch off
Who lurked outside?
Unseen, unheard
Who would I be?
Without cold sweat
At a bump in the night
Who would I be?
Without the darkness
That awaited everywhere
I come from what I aspire to be
I come from the words that flow
From my mind to the keys
I come from the working gears of the mind

I come from passion
Emotions indescribable
But exploding – everyone can see
As they are kept
In futile attempt
Hidden away

Yet I can’t help it –
I explain away
The feelings inside
The good, and the bad
I come from the stories that form in my head

I come from fall leaves
Trickling down
From ink on a page
That drew pictures in my mind
From the pages bound together,
Pages I refused to put down
I am forged every day
From the fantasies that surround me
I come from those who I love –
But in particular from those who I hate
I come from secret codes
Completely forgotten
From crawling over the tree
Suspended above the murky waters

Scattered across the map, I’m from pins
Showing everywhere I’ve ever been

Everything I ever was,
And everything I’ll ever be.