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 May 2018
Olivia Daniels
It's still me
though I had to change
the name I've had my whole life.

Not legally of course,
but poetically

While I wish my name remembered
as one with written art.
I can't risk possibly losing
those who have my heart.

With time I've come to realize
that people can't be trusted.
They take the good and make it bad
or let it leave them rusted.
They never understand

So I remain anonymous
With simple pseudonyms
To protect myself and others
from pure and raw emotion
in case they can’t withstand
I changed my name on HePo because I was afraid of people in my life finding the stuff I've written about them. I use it and my poetry as a diary, it's usually raw unbridled emotion and I've learned from experience that a lot of people can't handle it. I've had people find stuff like this before and it ruined a lot. I really want my poetry to be out there for people to lean on, and for my own stability but I can't risk the wrong people finding it. Hopefully, some day, I can change it back to my real name. Thanks for understanding guys. If you're not sure who this is, please look at my profile. My poems are still the same, as is my description, and they will remain so and hopefully it can clear up any confusion. If you have questions, DM me! Thanks again, I love you guys
 May 2018
Lily X
I knew it was over
when every good thing you did felt like a trap.
 May 2018
Leigh Jacobson
You course through my veins and meet my head in disharmony.   Uninvited but tolerated . No longer reviled,   I speak to you from rehearsed scripts til you linger no more.
Feelings that I don't get along with and Coping that  is a learned through many hardships.  I find #peace from the #Holy Spiri
 May 2018
Terry Jordan
Her hands of seventy years
Teach without saying a word
All those baby’s heads cradled
All of her recipes stirred
Delighting in gardens she’s planted
Her hands bring deliverance
Pure fluidity like a young child
Textured by experience
All the stitches embroidered
All the cake flour sifted
So intricate, seasoned, lovely those
Hands creatively gifted
Precisely she chooses vegetables
So tenderly and knowing
Arranging flowers from her garden
All those seeds she’s still sowing
With hands of seventy years
Assured intention without guessing
That teach me without speaking
Is why I can’t forget the lesson
 May 2018
AAron Roz
You are a very loved pain in the ***.
 May 2018
Chelsea Rae
I just want to be the remnants of who I used to be.
Turned dark and devilish,
The thing that goes bump in the night,
Because I'm so sick of being the fairy in the forest.
The dainty flower you're worried you'll step on.
*******.
I have thorns.
I have horns
And this demon is ready to play.
I can be nasty too.
 May 2018
Graff1980
I’m losing
from not using,
from excusing
my laziness.
I’m fading quietly
with disappearing memories
of the human being
I once was.
 May 2018
Graff1980
Change is scary
deranged,
contrary
to the arranged
and predictable
life,

opposite of
an existence
without
extraneous
variables,
boring and plain,
stable as a perfectly
measured coffee table.

But without change
there is no chance of
awesome growth.
 May 2018
ls
When we met again
my body remembered yours
they fit the way they used to
our fingers interlocking
as if they'd never been pried apart
it was natural
and right

But now we are separate entities once again
my body awaiting yours
searching the empty space in the bed
my hands lonely
they reach out to touch your hair
but is met by dust in the air
my limbs suspended in front of me

There is nothing for me to feel
my eyes gaze through where yours should be
my hands lowering to your hips
and your fingertips
but they find nothing there
just pain
and loneliness
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