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A Poem 02/21/23

When I was in fourth grade

I changed my name.

To Scarlet.

Not legally.

Nobody even called me that.

But it meant that

on my tenth birthday,

at Olive Garden,

everyone sang Happy Birthday

to Scarlet.

I loved Scarlet.

She had red hair.

She wore

low top red converse

with sweatpants

that tied at the bottom with a hair tie.

Scarlet ate

peanut butter and Nutella sandwiches

for lunch.

Scarlet loved to bake.

She loved a lot of things.

Scarlet made a YouTube channel.

She made a lot of things.

Scarlet was 10.

She stays 10.

When I was a freshman

in high school,

I changed my middle name.

To Elsie.

Not legally.

Nobody really liked it.

But it meant that

I was my great grandma.


I never met her.

I love Elsie.

I have her lips.

I don’t know much about Elsie.

I just know that I was never her.

I changed my name.

To Rach.

Not legally.

But people call me Rach.

I’m Rach the person,

Rach the friend,

Rach the sister.

Rach the anything I want to be.


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