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I Am From....
I am from by WS
I am from falling books, the smell of old tree trunks, the loud pages and tapping of the graphite in the room of quite.
I am from the "get out of my room" and the "don't touch my stuff," from the flying plastic bird and fish that cannot swim but only turn.
I am from the loud humming of the room of food, the room that has the leaning chairs and the flakes that scream as they fall off the table. I am from the bathroom that is like an ocean, the mini ocean in the office where fish eat fish, from the guarded cupboard with brown treasure inside, the planning of him and me to kill the dragon, the small yet painful little dragon. I am from the graphite still following me with its painful tapping, from the best friends houses to my own, from the day came out to the last day of life the wall stays white as snow, the room is then forever blunt and dull. I am from the technology boy that grew up to be the technology man, from air sick to sea sick and to car sick yet nothing happens, from the mystery of life that I try to accomplish to the thing I mustn’t do or the thing I mustn’t say, from the joy of the taste hormones being released through my body at the first bite of chocolate, from the site of the spinning ball of food. I am from the chill of eyes on the wall and the angel that will speak and unlock the door, the sleep walking accountant and the cranky, old accountant. I am from the teacher that has a hissy fit whenever you annoy her or at least look at her, the traitor of the schools, that never was so kind we liked him very much yet knew he was a spy. I am from the thought of reaching 9 and 10, the door that never closes, the phone that always rings. I am from the creator of all that is here, from here or there that is where I’m from.
Where are you from?
Article posted May 10, 2010 at 01:18 AM •
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