My Name

 You could never pronounce my name right.

The way it rolled off your tongue,

just sounded mishandled.

Like a piece of the puzzle

that you try so hard to make fit.

But it doesn’t quite belong.

I learned to love it that way.

It was the only flaw I could find.

It was almost like you took,

who I thought I was.

And revised it a little bit.

You would whisper it into the stillness,

or scream it into the void

Reminding me that I found love,

was nothing exceptional.

But then, you got tired

of my names dull tone.

And I watched

as it dropped right from your

perfectly curved lips,

and shatter on the floor.

My name,

that was once so full of love,

was just a broken sound.

And now, when someone says it right.

I don’t even react at all.