I’m from a nondescript apartment building in a foreign city,

A parallel “what if” home which could have been mine,

Instead fading to forgotten memory alongside my Chinese genealogy,

Lost in Wuxue, found in Shaker Heights.

 

I’m from (and will return to) pine green,

Melting gingersnaps and secrets in deep meaningful conversations (DMCs) with Mom,

Wandering the countryside with Dad, our incandescent ride (Judy Blue Eyes or Gilbert, preferably) lulled to sweet surrender by Taylor Swift’s sweet serenade,

The familiar routine of cat cuddle puddles, of “I love you to the moon and back.”

 

I’m from brilliant friends, my wild-hearted neighbor sister of childhood nostalgia

To o captain, my captain sharing unspoken thoughts to my faithful partner in escapades coming-of-age

To she of my pipe dream, chasing Oregon pavements beneath a Kanye moon I can taste independence

As once I tasted the casual intimacy of forever friends on borrowed time.

 

I’m from a golden childhood glowing with contentment,

Peanut butter toast in companionable silence and Indian takeout over warm laughter,

Attic wind caressing the attic windows of my room, comfortably safe

From reality’s uncertainty, reading and imagining an enchanting escape but now

 

I’m from exploratory, extraordinary outdoors, growing into nature’s oversoul, collected sticks and stones building these bones,

Running, flying down country roads, suburbs dissolving into sun-speckled cornfields, midwestern nowhere my everywhere, Ohio, Ohio.

Perhaps sustainable development, or environmental activism—there I’ll go, all the while

Writing myself the courageous protagonist narrative reflectively, poetically. 

 

So here I am, perfectly imperfect,

 

Admiring the multitudinous universes around and within me, star-crossed and lucky,

Bearing the gravity of roots with the breath of dreams,

Forever endeavoring to understand between subtle wonders

Where I’m from.