**Written in 2020.**
Happy birthday to me,
Happy birthday to me,
Happy birthday dear...
Who?
Who am I?
For seventeen years I've heard the song,
Fifteen years sung to me with "Maria!"
On their lips.
Two years with "Esperanza!"
Shouted over grandparents who refuse to let the old name go.
Then again,
It's not official.
Not yet.
This year, in eleven days,
I will sing it to myself with the fact
That the grandparents have to sing
"Esperanza!"
Sing it with the fact that I am no longer Maria.
I am Esperanza.
I will be Esperanza.
I'm getting ink on my skin two days after
I am dying my hair and skin different colors
I am changing everything about me once again,
Just before I leave.
I can't wait for December 15.
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Poems That I Form
الشعرI ask for no comments, votes, or anything. This is a place I can rant quietly without anyone needing to be a mandated reporter.
