Tonight my name is the sound of a breaking heart cloaked in unshed tears.

Yesterday my name was endless echoes of golden laughter.

Tomorrow my name will be forgotten, as it has long left your heart.

My father thinks my name is caged songbird and seeks only to covet my sorrow, not joy.

My mother thinks my name is symphony and she alone hears the springtide fed laughter and sobbing autumn laments.

My brother thinks my name is sun-stippled ocean and forever searches for what lies beneath my indistinct depths.

My friends think my name is wildfire, uncontrollable and eternal, drowned in their unshed tears alone. Yet others name me sunrise, and wait for my return to them with each heartbeat.

The police think my name is nonexistent, like the unseen breeze as it runs ardent fingers through your hair, or spilled invisible ink, coating all the thoughts you ever had or will again.

Strangers think my name is specter-a half-seen shadow within a smile, a flicker of pale laughter behind shuddered eyes.

The boy on the corner sheltered from winter’s chill in a long since outgrown jacket thinks my name is magic-to be acknowledged but never seen nor touched.

The one I love has forgotten my name. Has forgotten my name and with it, hears not the sound of my heart turning to cold silver ash in his palm.

I know that tomorrow, my name shall be whatever I wish it to be.