I am from pigments and pencils,
From Crayola and Windsor and Newton.
I am from the creativity that sprouted in a 2-bedroom.
I am from the ever-changing hues of petunias,
And my emotions that change with the the seasons.
I am from the undermining of my abilities,
And my imagination being a waste of exploration.
I am from the city where everyone’s dreams come to life,
From the perseverance of my own mind.
I am from the colors of the universe,
The sky’s paint strokes that are sunrise and sunset.
I am from the dark and quiet confines of self-doubt,
Where only I can hear my silent pleas for love.
I am from the love I was forced to create for myself,
The love that wouldn’t dare hold me back.
