where I am from

I am from balmy summer nights, I am from rain on the windows, And barefoot bike rides lit up by street lights. I am from trip, crash, and stutter From sketchbooks, and pencils, artist type clutter I am from Goodwill and hand-me-downs Cement and wood chips, from dirty playgrounds I am from a quiet house with silence so loud That I can hear every shout Sitting outside on the hot asphalt Don’t worry, honey, it's not your fault. I am from tears cried, And tears dried. I am from up, I am from down, And getting back up again.