Francie* is
An odd boy's name;
Uncle Francie
Has the same;
Uncle Francie
Is to blame.

Francis
Is a real boy's name;
It's on documents.
Yet Francie
Is the one that stuck.

But when I turned twenty-two,
I introduced myself as
Fran,
Sounding more like a man.
I got tired of repeating,
Francie rhymes with Nancy.
I got tired of hearing,
How do you spell that, Dearie?

When I drove a limosine,
Clients called me Francine.
When I faltered, when I drank,
I told the cops
My name was Frank.

I believe I'm the same
No matter what I'm called by name.
And even though
My ego's fraying,
I'm pleased to turn
To someone shouting,
*Hey, Francie,
You're **** good looking.

I wonder
what it is like to think
clearly,
to focus,
to be free of distraction.
My thoughts are constantly,
interrupted
by your voice,
your touch,
and my memories
of a life that once was
and a dream of what could have been.
Often, my mind wants to lock the door
so you can no longer walk in,
but the hallucinations are too addicting.

I know darling, I gave you an ocean of words
when all you needed were a few drops of rain.

I lost myself in darkness
Trying to find your light