Where I'm From

Where I’m From

By Allison Berryhill


I am from hand-me-downs,

from Halloween and homemade bread.

I am from the dusty attic

(scratchy bits of fiberglass

against my neck.)

I am from the barber-pole striped swing set,

the neglected garden,

the crabapple tree.



I am from Jovon Musk Oil

and Maybelline Mascara

I’m from “Not until you’re sixteen”

and “Be home by 10,”

from Leighton’s straight A’s

and Adrienne’s Nikon.

I’m from lullabies and scratchy vinyl,

James Taylor,

Elton John,

Bob Seeger.



I’m from Iva and Wayne’s

tenth child,

Vyrene and Ralph’s only daughter.

Leroy’s awkward posture

Meredith’s wide smile.



Under my bed were my journals,

Spiral notebooks filled with

love and rage and confusion.

I am from the words--

scratched with purple pen--

still scratching

still scratching