"Isn't Perfect But it Might Be," by Layeska D. M.

I am from loud streets and warm nights,

From laughter that carries down the block.

I am from summers where the fire hydrant is open,

Water spraying everywhere while we run through it 

Like nothing else matters.

I am from a cold bottle of Malta India,

Sweet and strong, shared between cousins,

The glass clinking as we pass it around.

I am from coloring books on the kitchen table,

Crayons scattered everywhere,

Never staying inside the lines,

But still proud of every page.

I am from movie nights in a crowded living room,

Lights off, screen glowing bright, 

Everyone laughing or talking over the movie,

Rewinding our favorite parts again and again.

I am from street turning into a volleyball court,

Family on both sides,

Arguing over points like it’s a real championship,

Cars waiting while we finish “just one more game.”

I am from messy handwriting in my notebooks, 

My mom reminding me to slow down,

Getting lectured about neatness,

Even when I understood everything else.

I am from walking down the block every day,

Passing groups of people standing on the corner,

Smoke in the air as I move through quickly,

Trying not to stare, just trying to get home.

I am from playing outside until it gets dark,

Hearing my name called from far away,

Asking for five more minutes

Over and over again.

I am from moments that seem small, 

But stay with me anyway,

From a place that shaped me

Into who I am today.