I am...

I am from the home with no real parents,
from the grandparents taking care of me, and a dad that comes and goes when he needs. With a mom that really tries to be there but every now and then slips, and apologizes.

I am from the odd white double wide on the right side of the road, with the cracks in the foundation of the driveway.
I am from the giant tree in the back yard that has been through so much and eventually started to fall.
The tree that couldn't bear the weather anymore, that tree reminds me of myself, slowly falling, not wanting to take the weather anymore.
I’m from the dark and unhappy room, where I stay to avoid the weather, from the loud and consoling music, and the drawings and poems on the white walls that let me be myself, since I can't express that through my one and only life I have.

The few teenage years I will have.
I’m from the “your a girl and they are boys”, from the “they do what they want while you just do as you're told and clean up after everyone”, I’m from the “you can’t have a life until you're eighteen.”
I am from the only time I am truly happy IS AT SCHOOL, yes school, because I get to see the only person that keeps me from not wanting to take the weather, instead, to me shunning the wind that feels like I’m caught in a tornado, and shunning the rain, that would feel like the rain during a hurricane.

I am from that random white double wide on the right side of the road, with the cracks in the foundation of the driveway, from the place with no real parents, just myself and the weather, that I continue trying to ignore, for just a little bit longer.