My name.
Since the day I was born,
My destiny was owned by others.
They gave me that name,
Tied to their rotting family tree.
I hated to hear it,
For it only meant trouble.
“It's just a name,” people said
When I tried to explain.

Just a name.
To name something is to claim it,
take possession,
have control.
Others had control over me.
I was wrapped in chains
Drowning in an ocean of dark words.

One day I said
“That is not my name.”
One day I said
“I am not your daughter.”
I tore those thorny letters
Out by the roots.
And let the poison bleed away.
I chose a new name
And never looked back.

My name.
Now I own and control myself.
No other holds sway over me,
No bonds can touch me.
I know my name,
And I know who I am.
The scars from the thorns
Etched it into my soul.