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I am from baby bathes in my kitchen sink.
From Tide and Clorox
I am from the small house near the highway, cozy, cinnamon aroma, it always smells of that,  sometimes even taste it, just imagine. 
I am from roses, red with curve edged petals.
I'm from the road trips for Christmas and overexpressiveness
From Billie Crow to Cari Nichols.
I'm from the smart ahleic attitudes to the loud mouths.
From ' Keep up with your stuff ' to  ' Tell her you love her. '
I'm from Easter Dramas and Christmas Parties at the Sanctuary.
I'm from Sylacauga and the mix of of Webber's and Crow's,  peach cobblersbluberries.
From my brother leaving to join the army and having to go through basic training,  from my grandmother raising me all my life. 
On my grandma's houses walls representing memories that we're once a reality.
I am from those sentimental moments,  for they were awaiting my arrival, but corroded before I came.


this was my English poem. oh 🐋

How Can It Be (MatPat x Reader) Where stories live. Discover now