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.