I believe every tattoo holds a meaning.
I am from closing walls and ticking clocks. From missing opportunities and the ones I love.
I am from the arms of my grandmother. (open, blissful, and loving.)
I am from the swings in my backyard. I would jump off in joy and laughter.
I am from cowboy hats and the tamales. From Blas and Enedina.
I am from the encouraging and caring.
From “don’t give up!” and “I love you.”
I am from waking up early on Sunday mornings. From amen and hallelujah.
I’m from Nancy and Edwards branch, hard-working and never been there, long lectures and excuses.
From broken promises and apologies to a confused curious child within. From unanswered questions on why daddy wasn’t there. From having support from my mother to being who I am today.
In the long dark hallways where the picture frames hung capturing the heavenly times to remember there isn’t happy endings.
I am from those moments that made me expect the world.
anxiety should just be called pessimism