I was 13 when my birth name stopped feeling right
The girl it was cut, sewn, and created for was now rough around the edges,
burned in the center, and stained with ink and blood
The girl it called for was no longer there
Your name is supposed to grow with you
There should be warmth and comfort in the familiar syllables and letters
But the letters began to constrict
like your favorite childhood dress you tried on one day
to find it was too rigid in all the wrong places
The nomenclature felt like icicles raking on my skin,
Almost painful on someone’s tongue
My name stopped being who I was and became who I was told to be
And then syllables that meant little blackbird and lover wormed their way into my mind
And they felt like a brand new suit, cut, sewn, and tailored just for me
Lennon is a non-binary poet living on the West Coast. They spent their days reading and writing stories and music. Their work has also been published on the Teen Ink website.
コメント