Dead Name

When my name died I did not mourn it
I did not bury my name in the back yard with Fluffy and Fido
Covering my name with flowers
Instead I just just stood there
Watching it parish as the truth of my words cut through it
Bleeding out memories and syllables
Birthdays and yearbooks and playbills
I did not tell my name it wasn’t wanted
As I held my words like a knife to its throat
Instead I said I had outgrew it, that it was uncomfortable and didn’t fit
Like the hats grandma used to make us for Christmas
It had itched for years, bringing me to tears
But I thought I had to smile through it because it was family made
I did not cremate my name and throw it’s ashes into the sea, releasing them to the world
Instead I tried to salvage it in a mania
Hoping that I could give it to someone else
Like organ donation
But every time I touched my name it stung
I did not write the paper or send in an obituary
No wills were read
For I didn’t want to think about what my name had left me
I did not sit shiva for my name and let the grief
eat at me for seven days
No priests or rabbis it or imans were called to help guide it to whatever comes next
Instead I left my name where it was
And went to clean it’s fingerprints from my bedroom

This poem is about: 
Me

Comments

Mylo_nelyself

This is absolutely beautiful and very well said from someone who is also trans I know all these feelings and this is amazing

Mylo_nelyself

This is absolutely beautiful and very well said from someone who is also trans I know all these feelings and this is amazing

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