A soul tastes like a promise. Sweet and succulent. Pulling you in, drowning out all of your other senses. Mock purity washing over you, as you get sucked into in the illusion. The first taste is magical, nothing short of spiritual. As you stand eyes closed enjoying the taste, all of sudden the bitter reality overshadows the sweet dream. The once pristine delectable treat turns into a muddled pastry. The illusion is snatched away, as the tainted part of the soul is reached. The part that isn’t visible to the naked eye. The damaged part, that is hidden behind the misconception of purity. Invading your senses, making you wonder what could cause this kind of bitterness? What could lead to such pain, and hatred? Eyes filled with tears you force yourself to push through the bitter, in hope that pure unadulterated sweetness will return to you. Only to find out that you are holding on to false hopes, because the next taste is neither sweet nor bitter. A sour tangy taste trickles into your mouth, slowly covering your tongue. Relieved for the bitterness to be gone, you enjoy the quirkiness of this part of the soul. Smiling you realize each distinct taste is what makes this soul unique. You see a soul doesn’t have one particular taste, it is more so of a million different flavors coming together forming something so beautiful that it can’t be recreated.

For a very long time I used my writing as a way to vent, or cope with the things that hurt me, or when I needed to get something off of my chest. This is one of the very first poems that I ever wrote.

A little girl facing the world alone.

Everyone else had one why didn’t she? What had she done wrong?

The love she gives is pure and true.

She writes a letter every time she misses you.

Maybe if she wrote enough one day you would walk through the door.

Maybe then the ache would leave her heart, and she would hurt no more.

But no matter how much she dreamed and wished you never came.

And she was forced to grow up with a heart filled with pain.

Her father broke her heart before any man could.

She told herself no matter what she could do it without him and she would.

She did everything she could to make her mother proud.

Her mother has sacrificed so much for her, so she would have to make it worth

while.

A heart full of hate even though she knew it wasn’t fair.

But he had missed everything important to her, so she couldn't bring herself care.

She is all grown up now, and she doesn’t write anymore.

She is all grown up now, and she knows her father isn't going to walk through the door.