Where I’m From
Where I’m from, the crisp bone-rattling breeze engulfs your body when you go out for a morning jog as the warmth from the returning sun hugs your face, reminding you it’s a fresh new day.
Where I’m from, my abuela is shouting for us to turn off the TV because the sun has set and the sabbath has begun.
Where I’m from, during the game night at Tia’s house is full of gut-wrenching laughs as sudden deafening gunshots interrupt with an unwelcoming hello; heart weighing you down pulling your knees to the floor no room for hope…fearing those pieces of copper are not aimed at game night.
When I’m from, sweaty kids gasp for air as their little hearts are racing to get a dollar for the ice cream truck cruising in front of their home.
Where I’m from, your attire acts as your armor for the day so you must choose wisely. The shade of lipstick and color hoodie will determine which man’s attention you’ll get so I always chose to wear baggy clothes to hide and display an undefined body, white knuckles towards the sky as I tightly grip my home keys on my last few steps towards my peace, my home.