Though I am not great

I have become a name*

The problems I’ve faced

The tasks I’ve completed

Have made me this name

Fidgeting my leg against a familiar school desk, the dreadful anticipation always washes over me while listening to roll call on the first day of school.

Names. Titles given to us at birth by someone with no idea of who we are or what we'll become, they are iron-clad chains bound to our lifetimes by those who want us to be something great.

Slut.

A word so keen and so sharp,

Thrown at me but never to me

To be muttered under the breaths of the boys who I’ve denied

And whispered from the girls with whom I have never exchanged a word.

Madeline.

The first name I was ever given

A symbol of my mother’s overbearing need to go her way or no way

Her way had no meaning

It was simply a name she thought was pretty