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 Sep 2012 Christina
Chloe Sayre
I have three brothers; three mirrors.
Three extra cranial lobes
where thoughts are explored; experiences shared.
Three life-long companions,
Six shoulders to lean on.

One unconditional, infinite love.
 Sep 2012 Christina
dj
E-Cig
 Sep 2012 Christina
dj
I am counting twelve pairs of ribs lining the perimeters
of my torso
Boney Me
Asthenia fingers
Wasted knees and knuckles
Pricking the hard chords on my chest-guitar
Misery eyes -- Dashing around in dustbin sockets
My head like a raisin with skull-shaped framing
****** inward
Looking at the dead animals guilting me
Looking at the withering plants begging for water
Evil food.

Attracted to the mirror
I know only this
Only what I see -- And I see a sow.

Lost in this possibly regrettable movement
Towards
Skeletons
Boney Me
Looking at the evil food
I tell it that I hate it and that it will never be me

I tell it I want to be like the flossy ones on magazines
Thin to skinny to boney
Boney me smoking an e-cig
I defeat the evil foods tonight
Surviving on primal back-up spirits
Surviving for the hope of closeness
Maybe
I can waste away all this skin
And finally see my own heart.
 Sep 2012 Christina
Sam Miller
Looking in the past,
All the old messages,
All the not so subtle flirtations,
I can’t believe I was so stupid.

It’s funny really
How when we take the time to look back
We laugh at ourselves and the stupidity of our words and actions.
But then we do the same things over and over again with different people.

I’m sure I’ll fall for someone like you again
And I’m sure that the new you will flirt with me like you did,
Only to step on my feelings with your Converse
And pretend like what we were doing didn’t mean anything.

Your compliments were virtual kisses.
Your carefully composed messages
Like the whispered caresses of a gentle lover.
Baby, just because we weren’t doing it didn’t mean I wasn’t feeling it.

Maybe you felt it too,
That thumping in my chest
A thousand butterflies with wings like lead
Beating against my heart.

Maybe you didn’t,
I don’t really care anymore,
But I want to remember this history lesson
Because when the next you comes around I want to know when to walk away
 Sep 2012 Christina
J Maxwell
Alone on this spinning rock we wander
My pen, my hand, I ponder
the solitary path I trip
and the infinite white upon this page I drip
With only this pen to write in blue
I sit silently searching for you
A mind I seek to share my soul to keep.
So if I may, with no sound nor peep
convey the message the reader doth seek:
By pen, not sword, or paths do cross
In word and ink our hearts do touch.
In peace, through art, love favors not
so together with pen we undo the timely knot.
Do away with people who may be bought
and know love can be fruitlessly sought
for with this pen I whisper to you:
Along thy path stay strong and true,
and know, this moment here, right now,
I do share with you.
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