Christen Foster Poet Free verse

NO NAME

I was born before language could hold me—
before syllables stitched identity into skin,
before sound became a cage disguised as recognition.

You see, names are borders.
Invisible fences hammered into the soul,
claiming ownership over something
that was never meant to be owned.

They said,
“This is who you are.”
Handed me a label like a leash—
soft at first,
until I felt the pull.

Call me by the way I  grand rise
after being erased.

I am the question that refuses
to collapse into an answer.

I am every version of myself
that existed for a moment
and then dissolved without apology.

I am the fire that learned
how to look like a flame—
just to survive long enough
to burn again.

I am the child who spoke in galaxies,
before grammar taught my mouth
to shrink the universe into sentences.

I am something
you feel
when everything false
falls away.

Because I am not something
you can summon.

but because I am too full
to be poured into something so small.

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