I’m from the sopa de arroz, caldo de arroz, y
atole de arroz
smells coming from
the kitchen.
I’m from “You’re it” and “No, you are!” outside.
I’m from the buzzing bugs attracted to flowers, babies
crying in sync, and big books in disarray.
I’m from my grouchy,
old-fashioned, grumpy granny and
my irresponsible, regretful, marked-up
Mom.
I’m from “Don’t do this” and “Don’t do that”
most of the day. “You did this wrong!
You never do anything right!”
I’m from the one-bedroom apartment packed
with five people’s noise that seems to penetrate
your mind . . . .

by Fabiola, 11th grade

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