“I am from” poem

I am from…

I am from the valley of the sun,
from the city birthed of ruin.
I am from the river banked over salt,
It’s water holy, its body sacred, laid bare across the west.
I am from ponderosa and wyrmwood,
Carved into the shape of our home, distilled into our livers.

I am from beyond the veil, where family bonds form twisted knots,
Where the rope tangles around me, pulled and burning against the skin
And cut with resentment, or is it apathy.
The body is a blade, we are taught.

I am from the lake, where we swam to mend the wounds,
Though it would never be enough.
The mountains surrounding the awl never watched over us,
They did not speak, but we would not have listened.

I am from Vaughn, whose brotherhood was lost overnight,
Behind a door, so nearby and yet untouchable.
I am from Kris, companion beneath the white pines,
Left to an earth where I have wandered for years longer than he ever lived.
I am from Devin, who is love.
My sunflower, summer sun, oh my perfection,
His soul and mind would become my light, for his body could not stay with us.

I am from the babbling of the rattlesnake, polished stones in wet palms.
The valleys meet here, where we made our bed.

It was bliss, moonlight and sun through the windowpane into sleepy blue eyes.

I had forgotten for so long, in our love, where I had wandered from,
I hold no fondness for the past before we met in my memories.
Only in objects.

I am from blood, pooling over linoleum,
An epitaph on the skin, but it isn’t whole.