MY NAME PIECE

                                               My name

My name is like a soggy bowl of oatmeal. Soft, mushy, bland, and cold. My name is like a piece of mint flavored gum. Starts off with lots of flavor but then gets boring and dry. My name is pretty, soft, calm and gentle. I’m not really sure what I think of my name.

When my mom was pregnant with my older brother she was going to name him Melissa. Maybe if he turned out to be a girl I would have had a different name.  M-E-E-L-L-L is the first part of my name. I like how it rolls on the tongue. I-S-S-S-S-A. The end of my name reminds me of a closing statement. Stretched out. As if you could only here that much and you had to think of me in someway. When I was little I had the nickname of Missy. I used to love the name and wish it could be my real name. I’m kind of happy I didn’t change it because at the end of Missy there is a hanging letter, which is a Y. Hanging letters really irritate me.

I have always wanted to change my name. But when ever I try to think of possibilities nothing comes to mind. Lola. Claire, Jane or maybe Catherine. But when I would think of it I would shake my head. I guess Melissa fits me. The best thing about my name is when my crush’s pitch goes higher at the end of the A. M-E-L-L-I-S-S-A-H! I mean it sounds pretty good.