I like your nickname,
Rome.
I don’t know where you got it,
or why you wanted to use it.
I’m not asking.
That’s for you to share.
But I can’t help guessing
and enjoying the game.
Maybe you wanted to hide
right out in the open.
If that’s why you did that,
I get that.
Me, too.
I’m an extrovert everywhere,
but I’m not really out there.
I want to choose
who really knows who I am.
And it’s always changing anyway.
Are you like that, too?
Maybe you just didn’t like your name.
If that’s why you did that,
I get that.
Me, too.
I didn’t like my name either.
It never belonged to me, really.
It wasn’t my birth name
and it never fit me.
So I changed it,
much like I’m trying to change my life
and who I am,
By changing it,
I hoped I’d erase the wrong name
and with it,
the wrong person forever.
Are you like this, too?
Can I tell you?
I don’t really like
the name I gave you
Justin
I don’t like many other things
I gave you
And did to you
either.
I like that you’ve found
a way to be
separate from that,
bigger than that.
Renaming to move on,
Whatever the reason.
I don’t like that name,
Justin.
It doesn’t fit you.
It doesn’t mean anything.
And there are too many others who have it.
You’re unique.
You should own something all your own.
But it should be something strong
That speaks to the world.
Rome does.
Rome wasn’t built in a day.
Sometimes it crumbles, and it’s messy.
But mostly it’s strong and manly
Filled with the struggles of history
And the strength of our stories.
It’s held the battles of the worlds on its grounds
And it’s been the home to the heart of the gods.
Everything human and inhuman,
worldly, and heavenly,
whatever ones perception of heaven is,
can be found in Rome.
You were the boy
my friend swore one day
had the soul of the old
The world at his feet,
the gods filling his heart.
You are the world.
You’re all the world to me.
Rome fits you.
~ mom 2010.12.30
