My Name

 

My Name

They named me after my grandmother,

but they shortened her name for me,

turned it into a cute little nickname

with that tame voiceless sibilant.

They also named me after

my mother’s favourite book character

with whom I have nothing in common,

except for synesthesia

and the fact that I once tried to learn

how to knit.

On the other hand, I am quite similar

to my grandmother.

Maybe the fact that she brought me up

has something to do with that.

We don’t let children choose their own name.

I am not sure if that is good or bad.

I wanted to be called Tinkerbell.

I liked the sound

and I really needed those wings.

I love names that mean something important.

For years I thought my name had no meaning.

Now I know it has the same root

as Nativity.

Not bad, that.

If I was choosing a name for myself,

I think I would go with something sonorous,

something long and slightly old-fashioned,

I would try each sound out loud

to see if it suits me.

This would surely be time-consuming.

and, to tell you the truth,

I have grown fond of the name I am wearing.

I like the way it doesn’t quite define me

or explain me,

yet it is there for me to use

and call mine.

GloPoWriMo Day 21