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 Sep 2016 Jamie L Cantore
ryn
.
                         
O         
         o       o
O          
                  O      o        
O    
•fill our beak-
er with un-
told chem-
icals•com-
patible  so-
lvents that
fizz... with
bubbles•m-
ix them in to get
the most homogene-
ous of solutions•introdu-
ce heat in the likes of passion
•never a clean reaction, there will
be residue• never right the first time,
failed attempts will be a few......• but once
distilled from undesirable impurity•........then
handle the mixture with utmost sensitivity........•
you'll get a result that can't be bought with money•
because this love in our hearts is the product of



pure chemistry

.
 Sep 2016 Jamie L Cantore
LeV3e
Idolizing drugs as if it's what sustains you
While I'm worshipping love contained in a statue.
I painted your face upon the cracked stone,
Hoping your grace could make me whole,
Again, my goddess crumbles at my feet.
Stolen from me by the shadows deceit.
Hollow was the ground upon which we built,
Our home was a grave held up by rotting stilts,
Twas only a matter of time before collapse,
Foretold by the stars, prophecies own map...
Still, I fought for you, to rip off the mask
Your grasp on my heart faltered,
We weren't meant to last.
To let you go, meant to shatter like glass
So here I am, scattered shards, lost in the sand.
The pieces cut my hands, I don't remember who I am.
Blood smears the reflections. I don't understand,
The message was clear before fears lead you astray
Now Death has come, a headstone is all that remains.
Hopeless poisoned
Precious one
The drowning's only half the fun.

Submerge, submerse
Sink deeply now
I'll close my eyes
And follow down.
In mud and muck
We'll sink and choke
We'll dine on fear
And purge on hope
And when our lungs
Draw deep for breath
We'll exhale smoke
We'll feast on death.
Quenched your thirst with nothingness
That final night we spoke,
Strangled by the Dragon's claws
Until your wristwatch broke.

It stained your lips, your fingertips
The membrane of your nose;
The queerest shade of mushroom blue
I'd ever then behold.

And were it not for breathlessness
That swallowed up the sound
I'd found the shade befitting of
The body on the ground.

As children, brave, you sailed away
More places than I'd go.
I followed each resounding path
And lived as your echo.

Motivation to taste the dregs
Of an oblivion
Was not a path I'd trace myself
Or follow where you'd been

I broke off, denied the blue
Before it stained me dead
I should have stayed a pace behind
To share the way I'd tread

You're Peter Pan at twenty-two
And nevermore a day
I watched the stars up in the sky
And saw you sail away.


Your wristwatch, though broken
Still clicks on in my head
The last place that you're breathing now
In dreams that grace your stead.




I never could quite come to tell you
I dreamt of drowning in one ocean
For the rest of my days.
I said I'd wait a thousand years
A thousand years I've waited
The fragile seeds of hope I've hewn
Have blossomed forth-
And faded.

The span of time, the falling sand
That journeys down the glass
Has shivered down to rest against
The last wish of the past

Words I've writ of you by night
Have lightened now by day
Would that I could read them now
I'd not hear what they say.

Truthfully, the beauty of a newly conjured flame
Undeniably must end
When met with winter rain.
 Sep 2016 Jamie L Cantore
Marles
Have you been writing since I left you?
Has the notebook on the dresser been collecting dust?
Has your quill gone without human grasp for the past three months?

Have you kept your brain shut off from your constantly screaming heart?
How is your head lately-
you were fighting those demons pretty violently the last time we spoke.

I'm sorry I left you.
I'm sorry I had to do what I did.

I didn't want you to get hurt.
I didn't want to ever cause you pain.
Please remember that.

It's just that you put me on this pedestal;
and I'm afraid of heights


You thought I could fight your demons, but it was never my fight.

I'll always do what I can to help you, I'll always answer when you call.

I'll be the one jumping and screaming to celebrate when all your demons fall.


I hope you're writing.
I hope your thoughts are being put into ink.

I want to read everything if you'll let me;  someday sooner than you think.

Please keep writing,
it scares the monsters
keeps them at bay.


Please keep writing; one day soon they'll give up and go away.

Until then, know that I am thinking of you,
writing about you,
praying for you.


This battle can be won.
But only when you realize, dear
you're the only one who can make your demons run.//
journal entries, you must fight to write dear.
I honestly believe that whenever I am around people
they are silently wishing for me to go away
I look at their faces as I speak and underneath their smiles
I can see that annoyed look that people get
when they desperately want someone to shut up
When I am alone and away from people
I feel like the ones I love are happier and more alive
I think I drain people
I think the sight of me and the sound of my voice
is equivalent to nails on a chalkboard
Sometimes I imagine how much better off the world would be
without me in it
The thought makes me sad
I don't want to die but I am so tired of feeling like I am upsetting everybody in my life
I feel like a loser
a nobody
I can't express how I feel because people either think I am being ridiculous,
looking for attention
or some other kind of *******
I can't help the way that I feel
I get that on the outside looking in I am difficult to understand
I don't understand myself either
I try so hard to love myself but I can't
Sometimes I think I only try to love myself to please others
It's not that I don't want to love myself
I am incapable of doing so
I guess I am just tired
I'm tired of fighting with my mind
I'm tired of fighting with my self esteem
I am tired of giving my all and getting nothing return
I don't want an award or anything magnificent
It would just be nice for someone to tell me that they like having me around
or that they are proud of me for sticking around despite my constant thoughts telling me to go **** myself
I just want my existence to matter
I don't think that's an awful thing to want
WRITTEN BY: Mandie Michelle Sanders
WRITTEN ON: September. 15, 2016 Thursday 9:38 PM
You are my star.
Even after you're gone.
You will still shine your light on my life,
for many, many years to come.
Who's you star?
Like,
the burning scent
of a cinnamon candle,
you are my familiar
deep breath
of home.
When you're missing someone...
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