I Am From

I am from music, brooms and dustpans, radios.
From the front stoop, upstairs, two doors to my own room, and a backyard.
From hot dogs, eggs, and dinner time at the table until I finished my plate.
From the sunshine to the rain, dirt patches, and swingsets.

I am from the mini flowers from the school fair during special holidays.
I am from the holiday boutique sales that made us walk door to door.
 I am from Sunday school, church and Easter dress shopping with my godmother.
I am from my mother, sometimes my father, a few close family friends, and my brother.
I am from curse words, creativity, begging to be seen, and letting my voice be heard.

I am from recording me singing on cassette tapes
to taping over shows on VHS.
I am from being the youngest sibling and second oldest of my cousins.
I am from feeling different from everyone else,
they are them but they don’t define me.
I am from being the peacemaker, the one to avoid most confrontations,
too many family members already filled the role.

I am from writing, organizing, riding my bicycle, to creative artistry.
I am from what happens in this house stays in this house
and if you don’t hear you must feel.
I am from count on me through thick and thin talent show auditions.
I am from Brandy’s I wanna be down.

I am from Valhalla where I was born as a twin preemie, the only survivor.
I am from a Guyanese and Jamaican heritage, my parent’s birthplace.
I am from saltfish, bakes, hot chocolate and chubby soda,
sous, roti, and curry.
From Dada being the best chef out there as a merchant marine,
He is the patriarch of the Taylor family.
I am from the wishful thinking that I’d live at 226 Lawrence Street,
the only house I’ve ever know the family to own.
I am from tons of journals, diaries, and other written artifacts
to really display the real me.