Where I'm From
Because even the biggest of them all can still fall. They don’t want to know it but the truth is still there. Because even a smile can gracefully fall from someone’s face. See, where I’m from, the ground is our bed. Where the dirt grows its plants with our tears. Where La Sabila can’t heal the cuts and bruises that He left behind. Where the Albuquerque Mountains are the calmest and safest place to be and not in His arms as they say to be. Where in the winter, snow covers them like a white blanket all while we leave our traces on them. Where we can slide down and scream of joy but when He slides us off our bed, we scream. Not of joy, God forbid, but of fear and hurt.
Where I’m from, houses were block away and trailers were our home. Where we could step outside and smell the wet dirt, so fresh you could almost taste it. Where we can see the hot air balloons rise from the ground and become stars in the sky.
Where I’m from, getting dirty is normal and good for you. Where even our dog hides from Him. Where he has learned to not get in his way or else he would get a beating as well.
Where I’m from, we needed to learn things quick or else consequences would come our way. Where we had to be the best or be nothing at all. Where one mistake means double to beating. We had to be perfect to please. We HAD to be perfect.
Because where I’m from, no one likes someone who can stand up for themselves, at least that’s what He taught me one midnight.
Where I’m from, we could see the high sky bruised with colors of red, blue, yellow, and purple and see it as a beautiful thing. But when we saw those colors on our skin, there wasn’t anything beautiful in it. Because the sky is a masterpiece of God, while the masterpiece on our skin, well that was from Him. And I quickly learned that where I’m from, Fathers are painters and their families’ skin are their canvases.