My name, my crucible

It belongs to me, 

Like my handwriting-- it’s my own.

Just as when you talk to yourself,

And believe it’s your God,

This is all I’ve ever known.

Written, typed, or inscribed 

No one can decipher 

Or see what I see—

The burden of impurity,

Or the suffering that defines me. 

The surname that follows,

An identity left hollow,

Inherited and indebted,

I paid the price

With the sins of a father

It belongs to me.

This heart has paid a heavy toll
A heart, never again the same,

“I have given you my soul;
Leave me my name!”