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I write stories and poems:
Where I am from
I am from computers, broken light bulbs, overworked batteries, a mess of dog food, food throwing bird, playful cats, and dripping faucet.
From a grassy field, tall oak trees, and dead leaves, the yellow garden spider in my window, acorn throwing squirrels, and broken glass from an old window.
I am from a mother of love, little sister of attitude, grandparents of trust, animals that listen, and Angels that watch over me.
I’m from “Are you ok?”, “Stop arguing!”, “Whatever, I’ll do it later.”, and a silent voice that leads the way.
I’m from Spaghetti, overcooked Lasagna, dried stake with overfilling toppings, and the overwhelming smell of mints.
I am from eye patch child, no front teeth, TV disaster, and old house in the country, a world that does not exist, a story with no end, and gods that have been forgotten.
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