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Erin Atkinson Dec 2015
I saw the Earth once, and fell in love.
I wanted to be named dirt.
You laughed, called me mud,
But I love all things that hold up the sky
and You forgot that one is part of the other
and that I am part of everything.
I remain,
                both dirt and sky
You
       disappear with no name.
Viv Clark Nov 2015
What shall I call you?
Should I call you my friend? Despite my heavy weight you still catch me every time.
Should I call you my enemy? I do hate you. I hate that I can never hate you.
Should I call you my sibling? Sounds incestuous.
Should I call you my lover? I don't wish to only have you in between my bed sheets at three in the morning.
Should I call you my partner? Let's hold hands and use the buddy-buddy system forever.
Should I call you mine? Yet all I want to be is yours.
Should I call you by your own name? It's the sweetest thing that has ever left my lips.
Whosdp Nov 2015
Not the faded echoes of voices crying out
Names will never hurt me

Of course
They did
To This Day
Sara Leal Nov 2015
She** could be little,
But the truth was that she had a big heart.
That had fallen for the wrong boy,
At the wrong time.
He was wrong for her,
But she didn't understand that.
Even when I said it to her,
She didn't believe me.
Then he made her lost herself.
He turned her to ashes.
And these same ashes fell from that building,
On that Saturday at 5 a.m.
English version
Sara Leal Nov 2015
She,
Why nobody helped **her
?
She helped everyone that she knew that needed help,
So why didn't anyone help her?
She was so happy,
With her beautiful and honest smiles,
With her deep and sincere feelings.
She was a beautiful person.
She was,
She's not anymore.
For one simple reason,
She didn't know how to help herself.
English version
Sara Leal Nov 2015
Lea
She* gave too much to others,
And forgot about herself.
English version
The last time we met it was raining
and the stampede of raindrops on the roof
must have made it hard for you to hear.
I had wanted to tell you about my mother
how I wasn’t yet five feet tall
when she was six feet under.
Lover, listen.
Incurable illnesses cannot recognize
the plumpness of an over ripe nectarine
from the plumpness of a woman’s breast.
And the last time we met I don’t think you heard me say
that my name is Amelia
because you kept moaning Sarah.
Now, lover.
I understand the impossibility of moving on
but I’ve run out of excuses to make.
There’s no Lauren or Patrice
just me in these sheets.
Lover, please.
Pick me.
I feel like he has a part of me,
Something that needs to come back,
He needs to give up,
And try to re-run the track.

It leaves me with a feeling if doubt and regret
A nasty taste of hatred I must forget.

It is you I feel,
Never let my name depart from your lips again
Never look me in the eyes
Or tell me your lies
For I will be departing getting off at the next stop
For I feel too little or too much to give up.
Raiford Brown IV Aug 2015
In a weary series of redundant repetition.
I feel less of a hearty player, but more of
a lethargic field whos reapings are to far from succession.
Evolution happened somewhere along the
way.
Somewhere along the way we forgot there's nothing more powerful than the verbosity of our name.
Riley Schatz Aug 2015
Hearing one's own name
Makes one feel so loved
And known and
from the right (or wrong) lips
(or hands)
It can send a thrill through your
Tummy
and make you wish it was a record
that you purposefully broke.
I love when people say my name when they're talking to me I don't know why. It makes it more intimate?
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