I am
From the white walls and hardwood floors,
the glowing lights and thick comforters,
bright,
cozy,
warm like hugs.
Piles of plush toys, organized bedrooms, neat but overflowing bookshelves,
books upon books of adventures and quests,
of fairytales and myths,
of art and music,
of mystery and love.
A homey kitchen filled with homecooked meals every day, of chronicles of my father's mischief and boldness of his days back in Vietnam, of my mother's reprimands,
"Sit like a lady",
"Stop slouching",
"You talk too fast and too much",
and "You eat too slow and too little".
Of orchids and chili pepper, of crabgrass and maple trees, of rosebushes and dandelion fluff.
