how marvelous it is that in only seven years,
your hands will have never been laid upon my body.
in seven years,
i will have left this worn out city
and have found love at least once more.
in seven years,
my body shall be elegant
and my words ever-so-wise.
in seven years,
you will lust for my touch,
for i will be beautiful.
in seven years,
our paths may once again collide.
perhaps in some small coffee shop,
but only one that plays smooth indie
and hosts open mic nights for aspiring writers.
in seven years,
you will remember how much i appreciated
those small coffee shops,
and the other small things that life has to offer.
in seven years,
i will be sitting there,
in that very coffee shop.
drinking my coffee and
working on that novel i've always wanted to write,
i will be.
in seven years,
you shall take a glance,
and take note of my profound beauty.
in seven years,
not only will beauty glow from the outside,
but it shall radiate from the inside as well.
in seven measly years,
when you remember who i am,
and the part in my life
you once played,
all you will be able to do is simply
stare.
-l.c.g.
Jan 20, 2014
Jan 20, 2014 at 1:52 PM UTC
i speak only to you,
my single place of refuge.
my poetically philosophical lover,
with your smoke-filled lungs
and glorious ink-filled veins.
those rose red lips may surely tempt an angel
for I've exchanged my wings and halo simply for your delirious touch.
heaven knows how much i desire you
and how i ache for your embrace.
and lucifer is surely aware
of how many times i've promised my soul for a single kiss.
-l.c.g.
Jan 16, 2014
Jan 16, 2014 at 12:51 AM UTC
I sat in this chair for no more than a day,
yet it felt more like from October to May.
The winter came early and refused to go,
I begged you to spare me but you could not even reply with a single "No."
Those dimples you once cared to love,
only one remains,
the other flew away like a dove
being released from its restraints.
The smile you brought just by your presence,
decided to drift,
no longer feeling any pleasance,
no more a "kick" or "swift".
I sat in this chair for no more than a day,
yet it felt more like October to May.
I sat in this very chair,
long enough to see the change in the air.
I sat in that very chair for far too long,
because you are not where you belong.
You died that very day,
which felt more like October to May.
- l.c.g.
Nov 25, 2013
Nov 25, 2013 at 8:44 PM UTC
oh mother dearest
please say not another word
i'm not that little girl who was to your heart so nearest
stop being so ignorantly absurd
i try my hardest to make you approve
i really do
all you'll ever do is disapprove
even when to myself i stay true
oh mother
i know you detest my poetry
yet another
may not agree
i'm sorry for being a failure
and also for my irritating behavior
but you cannot choose my life
for this is not your own
your piercing words are like a knife
attacking until the cause of this loneliness becomes vaguely unknown
-l.c.g.
Aug 30, 2013
Aug 30, 2013 at 8:28 PM UTC
i've been listening to the same song on repeat for hours,
it's amazing how much one minute and ten seconds can make me cry.
because all it does,
is remind me of a time,
when we were youthful and free-spirited.
when our hearts had beat as one.
-l.c.g.
Aug 23, 2013
Aug 23, 2013 at 11:17 PM UTC
have you ever just stared
stared at someone you once took for granted.
someone who meant so much to you
but you couldn't see it yet.
and then everything happened
and the past became inevitable.
a dream only
because nothing could ever change.
-l.c.g.
Aug 23, 2013
Aug 23, 2013 at 4:24 PM UTC
dark bags reside,
under my forest green eyes.
the thunder is silent,
almost like a mute lion attempting to roar.
the shame is nonexistent,
and the beauty is awing.
-l.c.g.
Aug 9, 2013
Aug 9, 2013 at 2:45 AM UTC
*his blue eyes sparkled,
like the blue ice of the Alaskan northwest.
he seemed to not have scars,
none were on his arms,
yet i knew he had.
although his appearance,
no one could be that perfect.
eventually i found them,
for they were not visible.
but they were there all along;
they were on his heart.*
-l.c.g.
Aug 8, 2013
Aug 8, 2013 at 9:09 PM UTC
soft blonde hair,
rosy pink lips.
calm family girl,
but what is this?
little blondie's exploring,
she gets home at 4 AM.
once an honor student,
now an average joe.
once an angel,
now a party animal.
little blondie's hooking up,
having fun.
little blondie's not little anymore,
she's grown up.
Aug 8, 2013
Aug 8, 2013 at 5:54 PM UTC
tear stains on my pillow,
yet your pillow is bare.
people change,
as did we.
first loves are the worst.
our burning desire for one another,
lead to an addiction.
consider this our rehab;
you're still in my heart,
but i am
f r e e .
-l.c.g.
Aug 8, 2013
Aug 8, 2013 at 5:36 PM UTC