My Name Is
Angela.
Angela Marie,
Angela Marie Wolford,
Angela Marie Wolford Faulhaber.
To my family,
the ones who've known me
since I was a child,
I'm often Angie.
But only to them.
To my present day family,
the friends who've become family,
and the family I've created,
I'm Angela.
To those closest to me,
the people of my heart,
the ones who know me know me,
I'm Ang.
But, really, I'm all of these names,
each representing a different slice of myself:
daughter, friend, re-birthed, adult.
Each name, nestled,
like a Russian doll,
layers upon layers
of identity.
Greg used to joke when we first
started dating
that he could tell which part of my life
someone was from based
on what they called me.
I guess it's true,
that we contain multitudes.
Even if it's sometimes captured
by our name.
I read Long Way Down and found it really engrossing and intense. What a great idea you have for a writing prompt! And you carried it out so well. Funny that Greg could tell which part of your life someone was from based on what name they used. Thanks for a great idea.
ReplyDeleteI love this poem--especially, "we contain multitudes." So true.
ReplyDeleteThank you for sharing your inspiration and your own work to inspire others! I'm going to have to give this a try.
ReplyDelete