where i come from

I come from cold winter mournings,

waking to the crows' song and the

scuffling of creatures moving in 

the attic. 

I come from long spring days

spent staring at the clock

watching the minutes tick 

by and lazy days in the summer,

walled up in my room formulating

an escape plan, 

I come from cool autumn afternoons

climbing trees just to watch the 

leaves transform to brilliant 

shades of red and gold,

from dreams of forgotten

lullabies and bittersweet 

truths spilled in a red ink

revenge across tattered

tear stained notebooks.

Author's Note

Someday, I'll forget where I come from and start a new life.
Someday.