I Came From A Tin Box

This was a poem I did for an English assignment this year.

I grew up in a tin box.
The floor boards creaked
and the walls were hallow bones.
I am from reckless and young love.
I am from the clear night skies,
stars blanketing me.
I am from the ratty old dog
my parents gave me that
still hums me to sleep every night.
I am from late nights wrapped
in my dads arms recieting the words
that still slip from my lips today.
I am from driving the four-wheeled
death trap over the hills
in the back yard race track.
I am from an autumn evening
swinging with the cousin,
the cool breeze filling our insides.
I am from yells rattling
off the furniture, doors slamming,
and tear stained pillow cases.
I am from coming home
to a shattered and child-fragile mother,
eyes red and face puffy.
I am from pills that calm
my race car heart.
I am from 12 a.m. writing sessions
with the monsters under the bed.
I am from countless lost battles.
I am from melodies
that sung me to sleep
on hurricane nights.
I am from the days of
misconnections,
misunderstandings,
mixed emotions.
I am from the night I found
hope in a human.
I am from finding hope in myself.
I am from a tin box.
The floor boards creaked
and the walls were hallow bones.

Author's Note

Tell me what you think, please. Thanks xx