yea, that's delicious

I’ve always wanted to be delicious.
To feel delicious.
Someone highly pleasing to the senses.
Yea, that’s delicious

It even sounds like a delicious word
Every time I think of it, I want to eat it
To crunch on it and feel its juices slide down my chin
Yea, that’s delicious

Have you ever met a delicious person?
Someone you just had to be around?
Who made your entire life sweet?
Who made every day just seem better?

Well I haven’t.
But I’d love to be that person for someone else

Imagine being delicious…
Imagine the glory and fabulousness of knowing you just sweetened someone’s day…
Imagine that feeling…
Yea, that’s delicious

But there are other kinds of feeling delicious too
Just feeling good about yourself
Being self content in all things you
Looking in the mirror and loving everything you see
And everything you don’t see
Believing in yourself
Yea, that’s delicious

Have you ever met a delicious person?
Someone who always seemed happy?
Who never let anything get to them because they were just too fabulous to care?
Who never allowed someone else to justify their existence?

Well I have.
And damn, I’m jealous!
But I’d love to be that person for myself

And I plan on being delicious
Highly pleasing to the senses
Yea, that’s delicious

for a split second, imma open up

I thought maybe today I'd give you guys a glimpse into my mind. 

I write a lot of poetry. In my junior year of high school, I took a creative writing class. The teacher was one of the best teachers I've ever had as a student. I loved that class, and ever since then I've done a lot of writing: poetry, short stories, diary entries and such. Writing is one way I've been able to say what I'm too afraid to say out loud. The thoughts that I wouldn't dare let out because of a fear of criticism...or just a fear that I would see myself and not like who I was. So I write it out and I never have to live out those things. Writing it and putting it away, that's how I deal with most of the really personal things in my life. I guess that could be a reason why no one really knows who I truly am; I don't let them. Because I can't let them. 

After years of holding everything in, with the exception of writing of course, I guess I shouldn’t be too surprised that no one knows that part of me. So I guess maybe it’s time I learn to change that. I mean if I’m going to complain about it, then I might as well do something about it too…baby steps….

So here’s a poem I wrote a while ago while I was in a semi relationship. I say semi relationship because it wasn’t really a real relationship. We had already dated and broke up and we were just kinda hangin out to see if maybe we wanted to get back together. I think I was holding on to a memory of something I really liked, but could never get back. And once I realized it, I let go.

I’ll be there you say

So I wait

I keep waiting and I’m still waiting

But how long until I let go?

How long is too long?

How long till it just becomes sad?

I think I’ve hit that point

All I am now is sad

Depressed

Anxious

Fearful

Isolated

Isolation?

Maybe that’s what I’ve needed all along

Perhaps if I disappear,

My reappearance will be all that more special

Maybe if I’m gone,

You’ll need me, maybe you’ll miss me

Or maybe you won’t notice,

Maybe you’ve already moved on

So far on that I can’t even catch up.

Yeah, I think that’s it

I’m laughing now as I read this over because I feel mostly foolish for the little mistakes I made in that part of my life. I spent so much time trying to become someone else for someone else, when I should have just been me the whole time. If I can’t even be myself in a relationship then obviously I shouldn’t be in that relationship. Thinking back to that time makes my stomach turn. It’s embarrassing being in that place. Wanting so badly to become the person you want me to be…losing myself in the process…so I disappeared. And would you know it, he noticed…too little too late…