Not just a n_me

As a young girl I would only respond to Sophia never Sophie

The single syllable meant everything

Before I could tie the string 

on my shoes I knew my name

I knew my name the right way, the way where the A wasn’t ignored because it was my A

But now I turn my head to Sophie, to anything, to be obedient dog, not b-tch girl

To enter when called, called by anything remotely close to my name

Where did the frustr_tion go? 

My p_ssion?

My bones, my everything are delic_tely strung pe_rls now _s it is unl_dylike for them not to be

_nd I smile bec_use you s_y it is not good for me not to be

Bec_use you’ll s_y wh_t is the m_tter Sophie? Sophia? So

I will say- so if I said that it is Sophia, actually

Would it change the way you see me? 

Would it change the way you say my name? 

Would you put blame on the A

Hatred on the A

Would the A rust there at the end of it all 

By Sophia Fox

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