Vision+Voice

I’m from Willie
From pecan trees and ziplines
I am from friends are family
Whose plants danced in the sun
I am from casio and sunglasses
From McKinney and Balter
I am from movies on fridays and basketball on sundays
And from open windows on weekend mornings
I am from Boston trips
I am from pop and ma
From frozen pizzas and pasta
From good friends
And from trampolines
I am from those moments and my family

I’m from a pink blanket
I’m from a white bed with a puffy blanket
I’m from a car that took my family around the world
I’m from a nail polish that’s hardened on the top
I’m from a water bottle that has bumps and scratches
I’m from a phone that is dipped and dives into water
I’m from a couch that is filled with my stuffed animal
I’m from a banana that is sting lonely on the counter top
I’m from a shirt that has marks that tells it’s been sewed
I’m from a comb that has black hair all wrinkled up

Boy with short hair
Girls with long

Boys with trucks,
Girls with dolls.

And I just sit here lost.

They say I must choose one,
But I can’t.

Boys love girls,
Girls love boys,
Girls love girls,
Boys love boys.

But I can’t seem to feel anything at all.

In a world full of love and romantics,
It’s easy to feel lost.

When everyone’s talking about crushes and dates,
I feel lost.

Boys chase after girls,
Girls chase boys,
Boys chase boys,
Girls chase boys.

And I’m lost.
Ungendered,
Not feeling anything for anyone at all.

I’m from a dusty mirror, above an old clock, from a stuffed animal and bought blanket, I am from an angry household, and a four-room house, I am from a big oak tree that once got cut down, whose branches I would climb when it was windy, I am from a necklace engraved with an s, and a blue bracelet I never take off, from the Canelos and Richer family, I am from an angry family, filled with rage and depression, and from an independent family, I am from Saint Ignatius Church, I am from Betty and Ken Richer, from pizza and ice cream, from a ten-k race, that I finished with pride, from wanting to learn Spanish when I was young, I am from those moments in my colorful past, and the memories I’d wished I had forgotten all those years ago.

I’m from a bat and ball
from playing catch.
I’m from yellow lights
and bright yellow lights.
I’m from dark oak tree
that froze to death.

I’m from my mom’s gooey chocolate chip cookies,
to my dad’s instrument talents.
I’m from A’s in school
to athletes.
I’m from a garden with tomato plants
all juicy and red.
I’m from Pizza Night every Friday,
and going to my grandparent’s house for Christmas.
I am from dreams
to reality.

I used to be inpatient, but now I listen. I used to be ecstatic but now I’m tired. I used to be full of wishes for myself, but now my wishes are no longer my own. I used to hang out with people whenever I wanted but now it’s just me all alone. I used to watch movies and shows, but now there is no time for those. I used to be up all night laughing but now I am up all night hopping. I used to hope for the day to get longer, but now that is the last of my worries. I used to cry alone, but now there is no time for tears, only regret.

1. When you wake up
On Christmas morning you
feel a rush of
joy runs through your body
as you walk into
Your living room and
See all of the presents
Lined up in a row
But just one catches
Your eye with a glistening glow
Could it be
Could it really be
I have only ever
Dreamed of this

But then you realize
Something
Now you wish
This was a dream
Please be a dream
Please be a dream
But it was not
The tag
It said
From Santa
To Ella
I felt like my heart
Sunk to my stomach
Then all of a sudden
My mom yelled
Time to open
PRESENTS!
Then it went black.

I pop off my scalp like the lid of a cookie jar.
It’s the secret place where I keep all my dreams.
Little balls of sunshine, all rubbing together like a bottle of kittens.
I reach inside and pull one out.
It’s warm and tingly.
But there’s no time to waste! I put it in a bottle to keep it safe.
And put the bottle on the shelf with all the others.
Happy thoughts, happy thoughts, happy thoughts, all in a row.

My collection makes me friends.
Each bottle a star to make amends.
Sometimes my friend feels a certain way.
Down comes a bottle to save the day.

Night after night, more dreams.
Friend after friend, more bottles.

I blow dust off my bottle caps.
It doesn’t feel like time has elapsed .
My empty shelf could use some more.
My friends look through my locked front door.

Finally all done, I open up and in come my friends.
They come in, in such a hurry. Do they want my bottles that much?
I frantically pull them from the shelf, One after the other.
Holding them out to each and every friend.
Each and every bottle.
But each time I let them go, It shatters against the tile between my feet.
Happy thoughts, happy thoughts, happy thoughts in shards all over the floor.

They were supposed to be for my friends, my friends who aren’t smiling.
They’re all shouting, pleading, something.
But all I hear is echo, echo, echo, echo,
Inside my head.