My mother's been asking me
about where I've been.
But I'm a younger version of her
with my father's eyes
and a tongue of my own.

The sun painted my skin
the same color as the history
of skins before me.
The same stretch insecurities carved
too lightly; for now.

My name is from the people before me;
Am I supposed to carry their ghosts when they leave?
How heavy does a name weigh?
Especially when it sounds like expectations?

before you break me
say my name
catch the torment in your throat,
just for a moment.
look into my eyes
commit the feeling to memory.
say my name
place humanity into the punching bag
before you take the final swing.
please
say my name
before you break me

moon river in our heads
august came instead
running our course
knowing there was much unsaid

White shadow isn't just a name,
It's the place from where I came.
And it's a display to the world what I've became!!

People think that anything as such doesn't exist,
But people don't know that it is the shadow of a person glowing from within.

So, it's not just a name,
It shows the inner flame
That's burning inside me and
I adopted it as a name.

“What’s your name again?”
He asks me.
“Have we met before?”
He asks me.
Yes we’ve met.
I remember the first time I saw you up close.
I was too scared to look into your eyes so I just looked at your hands.
I could’ve looked at them all day.
They were beautiful.
Not in a soft and polished kinda way,
but a strong and rough way.
It’s like they told stories of your manhood and all I wanted to do was put them up to my face and listen to what they had to say.
But you ask me…
“What’s your name?”
I guess you were all business.
Filming for your job and I was just a prop.
A nameless
plain
unimportant
prop.
You had to edit over an hour of footage with me in the background.
Twirling the ribbon in my Bible scared that if I looked up I would just stare at you.
You had to type my name.
First and last.
But you ask me…
“What’s your name?”
I thought of us before even laying eyes on you.
I remember the first time I saw your face.
We’ve only been going to church together for three months now.
I’ve only been staring at you every Sunday for three months now.
But you ask me…
“What’s your name?”
Your profile popped up on my Facebook and I thought it was fate.
I wasn’t looking for your profile.
I didn’t even know your name yet.
I lost sleep because of you.
It wouldn’t surprise me if I said your name in my sleep.
I checked your socials like an old man checks the morning paper.
But you ask me…
“What’s your name?”
Don’t worry about my name,
if you don’t know it now you will never learn it.
If you wanted to remember my name you would have.
So don’t waste my time with asking me now.
“WHAT’S YOUR NAME?”
My name is worthless
unlovable
invisible.
But I don’t say any of this out loud.
I tell you my name while I feel my heart tighten.
My name is…
But once I tell you my name you repeat it like it’s a question.
It’s like a song I want to play on repeat until I get sick of it.
I want to hear you say my name over and over and over again.
But you won’t.
You have another girl’s name to say.
While you forget mine,
I remember yours like a bad song I wish I never heard.
A song that’s so bad it’s good.
What’s my name…
Maybe my name isn’t worth remembering.

Star of the sea,
even in the midst of darkness her shine will not be fazed.
she'll glow brightest,
the one to bring light to the
place.

yours truly,
maristella.

I'm writing about love,
And
End up writing your name.