Aliyha

I first decided I hated my name freshman year.
Aliyha- six letters, three syllables that translated to
Too long, strange.
How unique?
Emphasis on the question mark.

Aliyha became Ah-lie-ah
Even when I told the truth
Because Aliyha isn't supposed to be spelled like that.
Aliyha became Ali, or Lu Lu, or Alicia,
Because three syllables we're much too long.

I decided, after that, that if no one knew my name
I should just change it.
And so Aliyha became Leah,
Which became Lee,
Which became Ash.

So, because kids are mean
And I was stupid,
I tore the name from my lips, my ink, my ears
And introduced myself.
Hi, I'm Ash Wood.

Never claimed I was good at naming things.
Ask my cat, Holly.
Holly is such a good name, though.
Not too hard to say, or to spell.
Not too hard to hear.

I remember sitting there,
Butt going numb with pins and needles,
And white-knuckled and wrist aching
From the pen and paper I clutched in my hand
Or the Baby Name websites pulled up on my phone.

I ruled out any nicknames,
Because while they are okay
You can't really get any good nicknames
From Aliyha.
Another flaw, I guess.

I asked friends,
Thinking a name from them
Would equate a name with love,
Picked out with careful considerance
A mother would give her newborn child.

But the path that took me down
Was nothing but a book of memories,
Reminding me of all the bloody butchering
My teachers, friends, family all had done
In the past.

When I was in my last year of middle school,
I remember a friend singing about the magic
Of threes.
A mother, a father, and a baby.
A triangular balance holding up Ash.

Until I remembered, that Aliyha
Also comes in threes.
Six letters. Three goddamn syllables!
Three years of reprieve,
Not until with confident hands,

I could sign my name
Aliyha again.