**** your condescending words, dripping out of your mouth with false justification, while your left hand leaves your side to crash down on the entirety of me.
With this mindset, it'd never be right to have the upper hand on me.
You deceive your right hand man.
**** your demeaning doubts that you place upon my mind, begging to come in and destroy the art I have displayed inside.
I did not cry out for you, so why are you here? Speaking of which, I remember when my cries drove you to steer far from anything that might be near my heart.
You don't get to see me fall apart.
You don't get to see me tear down the art away from its poetic position, just so you can place it in a box and treat it like its garage  sale quality.
I get to have all of me.
**** your motives ulterior that are just as superficial as your leather interior.
**** being inferior to the ones who cannot function if they're not superior.
I've been living on my feet for the sake of time, and you're only getting off your knees because you're out of it.
**** being distant from truth because you don't like the sound of it.
Drown a bit in the waters of self-confrontation, and choke on the paralyzed verbs you throw at the population.
**** validation.
**** your accusations.
And **** being mistaken when the step you've taken is only a misstep.
You are not your mistakes.
So **** letting the outtakes paint the scenery of your film.
My patience is wearing thin like a film on the edge of an outdated window seal.
**** making me feel something that was never real because your seal was never sealed tight enough, ******* in cold nights when you didn't write enough.
Riled up in silence with a heart beating violent...
**** allowing your chest to become the battlefield and letting stress feed your diet.
I've tried it and tried it, but today I say...

**** being quiet.

If I'm not in my right mind, then what am I left with?
Would it be wrong if I left it?
We live reckless just to feed on breathless seconds that we wish would last a lifetime.
There's no suicidal mind when you're your own lifeline.
We can't run from ourselves.
I'm sure we have all wanted to just stretch out of our skin when the words burn from within
Because you don't know where to begin, avoiding what they would taste as a sin as it drips from your lips.
The conflict that exists in the midst of the mist that crawls upon these fists that refuse to give in.
You don't have to fight yourself.
If I am not in my right mind, then where am I? I am daring to deny that you are not I (eye) - because I see the skies live larger than life.
This time I hate to be right, but the life is stale in your eyes.
You must've never learned how to scale your sight.
Run from this limitation.
A gun to your finicky fixations;
Be one with x in any equation.
Multiply you are not just another number, by you are not just another stutter that is uttered through the lips are the unsure..
And you will get the summer.
You would know that if you ever dared to wander from the shade you hide under.

- L.g

They talk to me like they know me
But I have never shown myself fully.
I have only shown a half-fragmented eclipse
Like the moon that perfectly hits my spine
to uncoil this life I put on the lines.
Their eyes engulf me and hold me for a minute.
Maybe it's only a minute because they try to turn me to a cynic that mimics a limit.
I become imprisoned in their stare;
Seeing myself in their glare was like seeing myself behind bars.
I wonder what it's like to care, but never take it that far.
They talk to me like they know me.
They tell me what I am, like I haven't met myself before.
Like I haven't lived with myself in times I was searching, begging for more.
Like I haven't seen myself trapped in their stale eyes,
just to be told to not get offended.
Apprehension, they want me paranoid.
Passive aggression just to fill a void.
They talk to me like they know me.
Like they sleep in the same bed, undead to the same head.
Cold sweats that bleed red.
They talk to me like they know me.
Like they know the words held back are necessary and unholy.
Like I am obligated to be seen regardless..
When I all want is me in this apartment getting lost in the nonsense of my conscience.
You don't know my constants.
You don't know that I am gentle enough to feel the trigger
with my trigger finger, just to pull back on myself.
Ego removed.
They talk to me like they know me,
So I'll take the trigger and bring it to you.

This is how it feels when I look down this barrel
of misconstrued views.
You cut me off mid-sentence just to put words in my mouth
and shoot.
So untrue to you.
Maybe you see you
In me.

They will never know me.

Do you believe in doubt?
Do you doubt your beliefs?
I believe you should think about it.
Are the things that you live without, slowly haunting your dreams?
I believe you should seek around it.
Be the sound of it.
Keep your candle lit.
Which side will you pick?
It is either a detriment or a benefit...
Elegant excellence or a pessimist's deficit.
My heart is split but it is not broken.
One side has surely spoken and the other cannot stay focused.
This has taught me devotion...
Devotion to notice emotion without feeling so hopeless.
But sometimes we need to hope less.
My soul is, far from soulless.
We need to know this when support is absent.
When the balance doesn't equate to the fraction,
our passion will not become stagnant.
I'm going to keep on running.
Never away, always to stay.
I am inflamed in the purest of todays.
Say my name when it rains.
You will need my warmth with the ice that remains tangled in your veins.
I am glad you came.

- L.G.

I flipped and flopped
And i flopped with the flip.
Heart fluttering silence
as I keep my candles lit.
Because the wax never molded
and the burn never fit.
I carry my flame that came from the hottest of pits.
Life ticked and it tocked
and i mocked every bit.
Until the sounds my from my mouth
seemed to mimic all of it...
Like I laid in every ditch or fulfilled every wish.
And I wish that it didn't have to rise like this,
as I sit and it hits.
I am a collision with an abyss.
My eyes blurred then they rendered the vision of a corrected pretender.
Here I am, perfecting the walk of the sender.
You could put my mind in a blender and i would still remember
that the blade is my center.
I have been spinning around this whole time; we should dance.
When was the last time you took a chance?
I want you to advance into my hands,
and i will keep you warm like all the grains of sand
on summer's hottest day.
We will watch it fade away into something bigger than what our eyes could ever lay or play on.
The question is will you stay or will you go?
I hope these words soon engulf all of your
brightest hopes.
Please, promise to stay awoke.

-L.G.

I often feel caught between the crossfire of resistance and the art of surrender.
This is persistence persevering with a heart that is tender.
My mind often seems trapped in a blender;
it tried to convince me that I am no contender against the storms I will weather.
But then, I always remember:
I. Am. The. Center.
Let me find my middle ground again.
I transcend, no matter how far I bend.
I know a little about breaking.
Please, do not forsake me.
My heart often mistakes me to be a vessel of safety.
See, I have been teetering on the edge of what makes me and what could break me, insanely.
Ironically, I find beauty in the struggle to breathe with ease.
We leave our minds to release.
I become unleashed and wait for my moment to succeed, in finding my peace.
This is deep.
In a deep sleep I compete with the disconnected and the complete.
I stand underneath my reality and the imaginary image.
I feel it overtake me, and i watch it all diminish.
I suppose this is what happens when we have the courage to truly listen.
I work with what I am given.

- L.G.

Everything I believe in all came in sequence.
I fall into the deep end and my night becomes sleepless.
I breathe this like i need this.
Fall into the pits of a mind that doesn't know it's genius.
Everything I feel is hard to conceal.
I am losing my grip on how to hide all that is real.
You can see it on my face when I feel misplaced.
Just waiting for the day where things catch up to my pace.
Everything I see, once blinded me.
It became tied to me, like an anchor to the sea.
I almost drowned in what I never thought I'd believe.
Overwhelming changes that I didn't adhere to gracefully...
Now, it is nothing new.
Like putting on my shoes, I have grown accustomed to the view.
They say never look down, but what if you live in the sky?
Do we have to die to realize that our time is only passing us by?
Become alive.
Become the night.
Become the fight that always wraps tightly around you, forcing you to become a shade that is warmer than blue.
Who knew that I would astound you with the view that I choose?
Everything I am came to me like am slow motion frame.
And now I sit here and reminisce about the time that it all changed.
The difference is, I all not sure when it all happened.
So I suppose I see clear through a time I had only imagined...

-L.G.