I am from candles that make every corner of the apartment smell like cinnamon and photos of family members I haven’t met and ones who I know dearly.
From incense that makes the room smell good to candies, my aunts bring from the store.
I am from the little park that sat near the building where I saw all my classmates play.
From the projects that stood before my grandparents, buildings where generations were raised.
I am from home-cooked meals and fast food as a quick grab when we’re lazy.
I am from rice and beans, pastelitos, and my grandma’s cooking.
I am from chaos, from my family whose loud voices made the wall rumble but voices so talented you wish you could sing like that.
From dreamers who have big goals and aspirations.
From “who you telling!” and “missy!”
I am from crystals and crosses that my mom and grandma love so dearly.
From Puerto Rico and the city that never sleeps, New york.
From runaway stories and how my family got into crazy adventures.
I am from a special book my mom got me and photos which hold ideas of people I knew.
From the times that made us closer and times, we’ve felt more like us.
