Where I'm From

I am from two parts:
One part tragedy.
I am from the pressure you
out on me to be something
I am not.
I am from the words of 
"rude" "ugly" and "Easy"
that roll of your tounge. 
I am from the heartbreak of
    watching a person die while
    still breathing right in front
    of your eyes.
I am from the "whys".
(Why does this happen to me?
Why do you act like this?
Why can't you let me be happy?)

But two parts hope.
I am from the, "it will get better"
that I tell myself at night.
I am from the infamous, "fake it
til' you make it" smile. 
I am from the imagination of a 
future of only one thing:

I am from the hope that tragedies like
mine will never be faced alone.