4:50 AM

When I was born, my parents named me Rhiannon.

I later read the legend about the queen accused of murdering her baby, and the song about the prostitute.
The name lost it’s unique shine.

When I was little, my mother called me beauty and light.

Have you heard? The song about the girl who shone with those such qualities.
And then she died at sea and her lover jumped from a lighthouse’s tower.
Sweet as the legacy may have been, it was not the one I wanted.

When I was feeling obstinate, I made them call me Josie.

It was originally to be my name.
And then somebody else named their baby that,
And my mother didn’t want to steal.
I kind of like to steal.

When I was older, they all called me Rhi-Rhi.

Not until that horrible girl from Florida visited did I have a problem with that.
But then I found out that down there, it meant retard.
And that girl called me one to my cousin’s face.
Not long after she nearly killed us all in a go cart.

When I was in middle school, they started calling me God.

I didn’t have a problem with that one.
It was funny. It fit my opinion of “me” some days.
And boosted my ego on the days I needed it.
(The days I held a knife to my skin and wondered when I’d started to like pain.
And the days when I wondered why I didn’t have the guts to do it.)
(And now during the days when
I remember those times and laugh a little nervously
At how lucky I am I never realized how dull the knife
Daddy gave me was.)
(But the pretty silver one I took from him
When we remodeled,
That one was sharp.)

When I was in high school, they finally all called me Rhia.

What’s not to like about that?
It’s short.
It’s sweet.
Only my parents have found ways to tease me about it.
And I curse the day they use them in front of my friends.
Actually, adults in general - aside from the lazy ones
Seem to not understand this one.

When I was barely paying attention, she called me Rhi.

I kind of liked that one best.
But nobody but her uses it, and she’s just lazy.
My other friends still sometimes revert to Rhiannon.
(Actually, just one does, and she’s been around “forever”
No, not quite, just since I ditched the only girl who talked to me
When the damned teachers moved me up a grade.)

When I was writing a poem, I decided on something.

Names suck.
I don’t want one anymore.