Dangerous Mind

Dead Leaves

I was built from novels.
I painted and drew my way into myself.
I grew with the apple trees,
And the tulips came and laughed with me every year.
The garden was my playground.
I hid from life
Amid johnson grass and thorns,
And beds of dead leaves.

I grew up watching my mom play the piano,
And singing with my sisters,
And drawing and coloring and painting,
And being exactly as odd as we wanted to be.
We didn't care.

Sarcasm slowly crept into our humor
Like the roots of a dandelion.
We got dark.
Now none of us shy away from the scars on our arms.
They're part of us.
Some of us.

I no longer remember
The house I was born in.
We've moved twice since then.
I remember small things,
Moments,
Like seeing my adopted sister and brother
For the first time
And making fun of my sister's snowman drawing
And hugging my grandma in the kitchen
When she came to visit.

I remember the house after that very well.
I lived there for four and a half years.
I remember finding stars on my ceiling
And finally noticing the flowers
On the bathroom wallpaper.
I remember the creepy door in the linen closet
That led to the dark attic space,
And the twirly cabinet in the kitchen
Where we'd get dried fruit.
I remember the big table
Where we made art projects.
I remember my mom reading books to me
In the living room.
I remember the pictures on the rec room wall -
I wondered why they'd been taken down.
The dark tree
On my parent's bedroom wall,
The screened-in porch,
The bookshelves and the fishtank.

I remember moving.
I remember packing up my memories
And leaving the house I knew.
I remember moving in with our grandmom.
I remember fighting with her,
Over everything I could.
I was stubborn.
I didn't know how much I would regret that
When she left.

Now I'm here.
I've been built into who I am
By what I've done,
What I've been through,
And what I'm doing.
What I love,
What I hate,
What I know,
And what I don't.

I am built from novels.
I paint and draw my way into myself.
I grow with the apple trees,
And the thistle comes and laughs at me every year.
The garden is my playground.
I hide from life
Amid johnson grass and thorns,
And beds of dead leaves.

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Hey guys, sorry I haven't been updating a bunch.  I'll try to get back into updating more often.

This was a poem I wrote for my English class, but I hope you guys liked it anyway.  I'll put some haikus and tankas I wrote in the next chapter.

Comment a word guys, I'll write about it.

~❤