The house I grew up in
sat atop a hill
buried deep in the suburbs
looking like the house over
and the next one
and the next one.
At the bottom of the hill,
there was a park
and a pool.
I spent my summers
walking up and down the hill
drowning myself in pool water
vandalizing the playground slide
stepping on ant hills on the large field
that you had to cross to get to the park and pool.
Through the maze of road,
I walked to friends houses
to gas stations
to football fields
to the city's center.
school rivalries were of the utmost importance.
My sister and I would decorate ourselves
with blue and gold
we'd scream for our brothers
along with the rest of the crowd.
I spent every weekend at basketball games
or football games.
I'd play tag underneath the bleachers
and spend my father's money on concessions.
My skin was marred with bug bites
and removable #24 and #14 tattoos.
I was eight
when they built the large playground
next to the library
and the YMCA
in front of the high school entrance.
That summer was filled with
imaginary pirates and princesses
superheroes and damsels.
I was the keeper of the monkey bars,
the ruler of the swings.
I climbed atop the tubed slides
and looked upon the entire city
My dad took me on his runs
at the high school track.
When you're youngest,
you have nothing
but your imagination.
And so the bleachers were mountains,
the field was a dense forest.
I grew up in a small city
in central Texas
northeast of San Antonio.
This is where I've lived and learned.
This is where I've cried and laughed.
This is my home.