You could never pronounce my name right. In your mouth it sounded wrong and sour, making my eyes roll back in my head. Like a piece that tries so hard to fit, but doesn’t quite belong. But I leaned to love it that way, It was the only flaw you had I my eyes. Like you’d taken who I thought I was, And changed it just a tad. You’d whisper it in silence, as the night air sings among the moon n’ stars. Or you’d shout it through the air, Like a swinging, whistling trumpet. A reminder that the love I’d found, was nothing short of rare, Before long you got tired, Of my name’s unpolished sound. And I watched it slip right off your tongue, And shatter on the ground. My name once full of loving smiling eyes. Is just now a broken syllable. And now when people say it right, I don’t react at all.