Not to be confused with a "dead name". I am not Transgender, but my birth name brings me pain and triggers me to hear it. So I called it "birth name" in this poem.
-=-
My birth name
was called out
in unwanted moments
when I wanted to be
anywhere but there.
When love ones were
strangers and too
close to me all at
the same time
and when life was
most unfair.
-=-
My birth name
was an albatross
around my neck,
between my thighs,
collars and gloves,
choking and invading
all I was inside and
chasing me into corners
where I couldn't hide.
-=-
My birth name assaulted
my ears daily for 60 years
of worse than bad,
until one day I put my
foot down on the neck of
the moniker
I wish I had never had.
-=-
My birth name is sticky
My birth name is sweaty
My birth name is
fingernails
around my throat
My birth name is living
in the summer months
in a heavy winter coat.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Thanks for reading! -Sam
About the Creator
ᔕᗩᗰ ᕼᗩᖇTY
Sam Harty is a poet of raw truth and quiet rebellion. Author of Lost Love Volumes I & II and The Lost Little Series, her work confronts heartbreak, trauma, and survival with fierce honesty and lyrical depth. Where to find me
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