It's nice to see you.
I knew you would be back soon.
You were staring at the moon,
holding a broken broom
that snapped as you broke in half
while sweeping up the glass
of your shattered heart.
You were so sad but you started to laugh.
Why do you laugh at your pain?
Is it a way of putting out the flame of your shame?
Does it weigh on your brain,
so much you go insane,
trapped in this downpour of rain?
Is it impossible to sustain a smile when you dial my number?
Do I remind you of the thunder
that makes you stutter through every word that you utter?
I never meant to frighten you; maybe you have taken me wrong.
I could be the lyrics you sing
with your eyes closed when you hear
your favorite song.
I am the truth in the lies you've heard for so long.
You run from me, but I will always be here.
If you could just take me as I am, I will help you see clear.

I am the pain that talks quietly in your ear.
My intent is not fear.
I came to teach you how to smile
and how to steer
through the obstacles that were so near
to you for all of those years.
I dare you to not run from me like you always do.
It's what you're used to.

Have the same power over yourself as I have over you.

- Your Demons.

Everytime I open my eyes,
I see these strangers
in diguise
just floating through time
with their soft spoken lies.
Did they paint their own mask by choice?
Or did society?
Did they ever know they had a voice?
Or did they learn to roam silently
in a world that deprived them of their own privacy?
I dream of telling each and every veiled citizen that it is okay...
to beg them to meet who they already are - not to run, but to stay.
If you open your eyes and don't see what I see,
that doesn't mean we can't be
like the waves of the sea.
We roll free, and suddenly,
time no longer exists.
We face our fears, instead of running to find the nearest exits.
We won't panic.
Maybe these words should live in a bottle
and travel the waters,
perhaps they will reach our daughters.
A part of me hopes that the bottle lands at the feet of a father,
and he will then realize that it is not too late
to be the author through any falter.
He will prosper.
If you receive this message on the edge of that cold sand,
reveal yourself to the world
and throw me back into the water.

I understand this is not what you had planned.

- L.G.

I am driven by a force that is to be reckoned with.
I have ridden a dark horse, and we ride away just as the seconds drift.
I feel a little section of me split - the section that has rested in a pit,
perfectly fit to figure out if i should fly far away or to commit.
I must admit that it once hurt a bit.
You tend to feel unfit when you know that the energy you emit radiates something that seems unsure.
You feel a little less pure on a path you are not assured you are ready to endure.
so you do what you prefer,
and you defer a lesson learned.
It is no wonder many are unsure since birth.
We cannot close our ears to the words
that would appear blurred to our eyes
and expect to travel any further than a tiny, flightless bird.
We must be unafraid to fly, in order to be heard.
I wonder if you hear me.
I heard the seconds drift.
I have become equipped with the ability to recognize
the riffs in the waves that slowly drip
from my fingertips.
I loosen my grip so that these words can dance off my tongue
and fall from my lips.
These tiny dancers form from a pit,
perfectly fit to soon eclipse the perfect note.
Too soon, my melody plays
everything that I ever wrote.

- L.G

When we are left with nothing, can we measure our happiness? are we really happy with the nothingness
we are laying with? is it really nothing? Or is it everything?

Happiness isn’t a measurement, it’s what defines our life, how we lived it and what principles we live by.
And the mix of emotions we carry is a blazing rift,
unpredictable like the things we see in our eyes.

Or what we see in our minds, the figment of imagination that helps us see or leaves us to stay blind. Something about the times, feels timeless or less exhausting than before. how can we open more doors if we need to feel more?

A silent heart stuck in a dimension unknown to reality, beyond comprehension, beyond nightmares and dreams;
A fantasy, concocted by the very same minds
that would not hesitate to disrupt out peace.
And if it remains silent, what do we feel?
Can we understand what is in front of us, is it real?
Is it something we believe, simply because we see,
or is it an enigma far beyond what we think is reality?

Because my reality seems to be everything to me,
but the imaginary seams are closing spaces between my fingers, where the imagery sings my favorite song. I just hope what is real decides to
sing along so that I can always understand.

I pray your reality is the manifestation of your wishes,
your desires; your dreams and everything that bliss is. I pray you find the answer to the eternal question,
one in which our heart finds no rest in succession.
And when you find it, let the world know dreams exist,
that this dimension is real if we truly so wish.

Let them know that what we search for, we are capable of discovering. Uncovering dreams, unveiling relief, reinvesting in beliefs that come when we no longer to the other cheek to doubt.
when we start to indulge in the things we cannot love without. And I hope that anything you are without, finds it’s way to you,
or stays far away from you. Whichever suits the sanctity of your soul.
I hope you know you are in control.

What is said of the harmony of when our pens meet,
for we have the power to create the definition of world peace.

we have the power to create a beneficial release, more than what they see, more than what they read,
it’s a feeling of planting a seed in spaces that need me, spaces that need you, spaces that need us.

The magic in words can destroy but they can also heal, and that process starts from the heart, from how we feel. If we unite our pens and the ink that flows our rhymes, we could bless this world with a cure for tears and create a dimension for infinite time.

And we will live forever. we will redeem ourselves in the presence of our legacy. dripping blessings like water that comes from the rain that will pour and water all that are parched for love, parched for wisdom, parched for hope. we will live forever through the love we inflicted on those that basked in it through our life and those that would soon understand it in our absence.

Yet hypocritical it shall be, as I know not of love,
I know not it’s touch or the bond of affection & trust.
I am a soul who knew not of such magic, so how can I talk about an unknown undefined love? How can I write about it when my yearning is tragic. How can I write about it when I never really had it? A broken heart tells many tales and not enough.

Yet I write about it and I live like it’s real to me. It’s my dignity. It’s setting me free to feel like I know how to touch. But maybe I just know how to heal.
perhaps not always myself, but they always tell me i helped them to know how to feel. I just hope I brought the right emotions to the center of their wheel, so that when they steer, they follow a path that resonates in the direction that shows them the way.

Your words bring comfort to my hallowed heart, and bring forth to me a hope within a shallow dark. Therein no longer are the whisper stars, yet even so far, perhaps their light may reach me. Perhaps it will illuminate again the emotions I believed in, and ignite the passion I once had to inspire, to write all my wishes, hopes, dreams and desires.May we continue this journey with our pens a flow, so this dream that we invented is something the world will know!

Is it possible to harbor "too much" love?
Does it blind those that look into these eyes, like when you look directly into the sun?
My eyes are tired and burn in the darkness of night, and I'm not sure if that's a relfection of being one with the light or being tired from this endless fight.
We spin on turntables of various perspectives.
The tables turn and our hearts turn aggressive.
A voice that shakes like unstable breaks, makes me want to thank the way these words easily become written all over my face.
You don't have to look too far, just look into my eyes - a demise that is out of sight.
It might be the right time to end all that should die inside of these rhymes.
Maybe I'm right, maybe I'm wrong, but that is the beauty in life - we still have the freedom to create our own song.
So, we walk.
We walk to the beat of our dreams, yelling "**** what you see me to be, I believe in all the words that they never could sing to me!"
Aggression gently hidden by a message.
Answers, always ridden on the wrong end of the question.
This is my confession - I walk to a song of everything I reckon, through these turntable eyes.
Recognize, my demise won't be televised.

- L.G

Misplaced anger, displaced strangers.
Where do we go wrong
putting all these hearts in danger?
I stare out the window and i realize
that this is not the place for me..
When I should be outside living freely;
I am tired of waiting patiently.
Clear some space for me, would you please?
I am assured that I need
to be comfortable because this, too, is a place for me.
Hidden aggression, backwards digression.
If we do not move forward,
we will never learn the lesson.
We act too prideful, like we are all rivals;
Not realizing that we should be one - no wonder we are suicidal.
Because we are too caught up in the lust,
and not the love.
Living below but never above...
When push comes to shove,
we should never laugh when another bleeds.
Where is the sympathy?
The empathy leaves
when it doesn't benefit the sheep.
I weep at the fact that we refuse to understand.
We have left all this substance on the counter,
as we stand here bland as man and woman.
That's exactly what we shouldn't be.
I know that "the land of the free" has little to offer you and me...
But I feel that we should flee
beyond everything that stands between.
Heartless rhythm and undeserving victims...
I stand here with my heart on my sleeve.
while my third eye stares at me, in the pyramid of my prism.

- L.G

They say that it could all be a dream. Just breathe.
They say my disconnect to the normal scene took away my normalcy.
I've fallen into the cracks between a desire to leave and a calling to lead. Breathe.
Don't let them see.
They don't see behind the same mirror as me. Breathe. Anxiety fogging up the mirror slightly; begging it to fight me, like I don't fight it nightly, like my fingers don't grip tightly around this pen so much that it's frightening.
My mind is an aggressive typewriter that walks along a tight wire - falling in love with the nights I get to admire the view of my feet dangling over the fire. Breathe.
You are safe up here.
You could disappear and still be near to all that will forever appear to be as real as what goes on in front of your mirror.

I hope you never fear her.
Breathe.

My balance is often complicated by the complex complications of construed situations.
The uncensored limitations, the spiteful aggravation; they think these are indications that I should melt with temptation through my frustration.
But if you felt my vibration, it would send you to the sky, where I am stationed.
I could never be what you want me to be in your dreams,
it seems that the seams to my soul are more than what you see them to be.
You don't see me. I became transparent,
hold me to the light for my transparency
to be clear to read.
Clarity will arrive here when your conscience calls and you appear.
My heart blends in the healing water that has a hallow father.
He is the fire that breeds these things that allow me to bleed and be these words that you see.
My balance is often complicated
but I have never once waited to be rejuvenated.
The light of the moon
illuminated my sight through my doom.
I dance with the stars and i hope we all meet soon,
so that we can bloom
as these words fill up the space
in this 4 cornered room.

-L.G

I cannot live a lie
as I glide through the air
that remains true
to the the sky.
You and I
will never die,
we build castles
shaped like the pyramids
teetering on the tip
of our third eye.
This is I.
Or am I this?
Awareness;
you don't need to look
to notice.
I become blind to my focus,
but my focus stares at me
through my dreams
until I am awoken.
The force that enters
my realm of reality
has been stolen,
like the deprivation of silence
when wilting words
are spoken.
Now, I am the force.
I am the source
of the sorcerer soaring
through the solstice.
Everything, in time,
is mine.
The melody of a devine rhyme
halfway frozen in time,
I can't rewind
or hide behind,
only align the lines
and combine the signs.

Crooked cops on the edge of the block.
Are they here to stop, or here to mock?
I had a dream once that all my hope was lost...

Feeling hopeless, begging for a sign of their proclaimed devotion.
My head slammed against the glass of the squad car,
They left me there then went to entrap the ones leaving the bar.
They don't know who we are,
but we gotta keep respect.
Like I've never earned a check or been upset.
We obey or get left.
We try to get right or get stepped.
Onto the next to make their life a wreck.
Enforced by fear every day of the year.
If we don't hear the fear,
It's a gun to our ear.
Living in a free country far away from here.
Our cries don't make ourselves clear.
If only our tears became spears,
But you know this life ain't fair.
that's what they will tell you, my dear.

I often feel that I have been here before.
Sometimes it is uncomfortably familiar.
I must have left the first time searching for something more;
there had to be something I couldn't figure.
It's as if the picture returned much bigger,
and i was born with my finger on the trigger.
This time, I focus on the stars instead of the scars.
I once lived on Mars and played galactic guitars.
I often feel that I have been here before...
and you knew too, when you opened the door.
I wonder if anybody remembers me or if I have to die once more.
But if I leave this world, I will not return.
My energy will burn into every nocturnal concern
that leaves you awake and alert.
I will play the piano on the blackened keys of your heart,
and turn them into that brighter white so you can have more light to give to your art.
We can travel to the moon,
where these letters often start,
and dig through the craters in search of the things that leave us ready to depart.
I often feel that I have been here before.
But I found an unopened door that lead to something more in store to adore.
I know you can feel it in your core.
I think it's time you get off the bathroom floor,
so we can surely soar.

- L.G.

I am so disconnected, but equally as in touch.
I believe in everything within me, but still do not believe in much.
I understand if you wonder how that could be.
Maybe you will never know, detached from my frequency.  
I used to see it as an emergency when I would bleed these things
and no one would hear me.
My heart would panic like a manic depressant;
I was a maniac that didn't know how to stop second guessing all of these lessons.
I suppose it was my pride that halted me from living life alive,
instead of merely existing.
Things that kept on insisting, I kept on resisting.
I used to wonder why I was exhausted and still only desired to sleep...
Until I realized that my dreams were the only place I felt I could be free.
I was a dead tree living in the middle of a forest of blooming leaves...
And then the day came where I gained inspiration through the branches of the the trees
that were reaching out for me.
My dreams began to sleep on me;
So now, when I bleed, I want to give you something to read.
Then, maybe, you can see me times 3, as I reflect off a deflection of what you see me to be.
I mirror myself as the third person through these words.
I am even and odd; disproportionately birthed.
I roam with the heards,
but I fly with a flock of unheard birds.

This is my world...

- L.G

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

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 am secluded in a silence that used to be a nuisance to me, a stubborn student.
I became diluted and muted like the t.v. screen that would stare at me; i could recognize the truancy.
Reluctantly, I started speaking my heart fluently.
It was all new to me;
Like a dream I would never see in my wildest dreams,
What a sensation to see me in the seams of my sheets, sleeping on the things that revolve around my destiny.
I am the teacher that was testing me.
I never listened, I never glistened.
I guess i was always sickened by the written cursive that curved through my tongue, inhaled to the depths of my lungs.
I was gasping for air, looking for the tear that left these words leaking from skin that was bare.
I was scared.
Now, my fear has been shriveled up and burned.
I let these letters churn like butter, my mind expanded like rubber, so much that I never wanted to tell another.
I guess i was selfish living in a shell of the sea,
But as soon as I cracked myself open, I could breathe.
I could believe.
This is me, standing on my feet.
Refusing to be anything less than the roots that anchor the trees,
Or the scars on your knees that would bleed when you would beg them to please, never steal your love and leave.
I am the veins in every leaf that left when fall arrived.
Somewhere in the bone chilling air, but you know I am still alive.
Do you believe in what you cannot see?
Because I am gone like words in the midst of silence, but I hope you learn to believe in me
Like how I once believed I could never be the words that you see,
But I am here, walking differently.
There's a different tone in my voice.
I speak me, fluently.

**** 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 you knew better, you'd do better...so they say. But they say and they say again today,
and always change like the new weather.
And these days are so cold - but I never fold. Balancing on my tippy toes,
the clouds smell my lofty goals,
while my nose is so awfully close to wherever my chin goes...and it's to the sky, every time. They ask me why, as if I felt I had a choice;
as if I didn't know that I have a voice that deserves to be voiced.
And that's a matter of opinion - they say to pick one.
But sometimes the sides within question are missing certain lessons,
and placing my feet into either step then
would have me left with what I was only trying to leave.
I stay in the middle, centered, finding myself - moments to breathe.
That's what I need...moments to breathe.
And what they want for me would come with a cost that I am unwilling to toss
into their wishing well.
It's like they wish me hell under their breath -
so unkept to the love that they claim to project. So let me interject.
Even the reject can sense the concept of neglect, or disrespect...
some things that a chest kept locked in a chest filled with regret and words unsaid.
And so I said "this is my last message";
I forgive, never to forget,
that the hands that shake mine
should hold more time to align the mirror, before they judge what stands before mine
when I write these rhymes.
It is now my time, as it always has been...
to never give in to what is less than positive.
I am sick of my stomach turning to walls yearning to cave in, ever so blatant.
I am done running in a foot race that I was never raised in.

I carry these burdens like boulders on my shoulders.
I know your pain should not live in my heart like a placeholder.
I would never dream to speak of you in vain,
Rather, I would like to run through your veins and take away your shame and all the blame you place on your heart, so tender.
My world is trapped in a blender, and i know you want to forget, but I am here if you ever need to remember.
A heavy heart will change your walk from the start,
I've been dragged through the mud with no inspiration for art.
But that's where we depart.
I would like to travel to a place where we can unravel our battles, and free ourselves from the rattles of these shackles.
I know it sits on your chest like it lives in my mind,
And i can see it in your eyes that you wish to rewind.
But we do not have the time.
Come with me, everything will be fine.
I wish to take away your pain, show you a day without rain.
I know it costs a lot to be sane, but I bought a one way ticket and we must aboard this ongoing train..

A friend once asked me, "when do you know when it is the right time to say that you truly know yourself?"
My answer was clear of hesitation, as I said "right now."
That was then, and this is now.
Perhaps I didn't fully understand the question that rang from his mouth.
Maybe i was too proud to announce that there was an ounce of feeling that was somewhat new to me.
Something that seemed so true to me, didn't spill from my heart very fluently.
Looking back, I personally regret being so bold in a black hole that I never knew how to control.
The question is, how do we know?
How do we know that what we "know" will not change with growth?
How do we grow if everything we know now, can easily be put on hold?
On this road of self-control,  when we strike a *** hole, do we roam free until we find home?
Do we suddenly feel alone in our own home when we no longer have the answers to our questions?
Why was I so sure that "who I am" was undoubtedly free of opposing lessons?
I became reborn, and this question kept ringing in my ear, but I was the only one sounding the horn.
I can't say that I know who I will be in a year, but I know who I try to be today.
That's what I meant to say.
To be a vessel of love and strength to the hateful and weak on their very last day.
To be the silence that speaks, like when I watched myself be awake in a dream.
I will be the resonating words that you thought went unheard to the lone bird, hovering above a world of hurt.
"Right now" is a small and narrow vow, but it keeps me around to be better a year from now.
I hope you all find clarity as I have found mine.
I ate my own words after all of this time.

I form new worlds
with the wandering words
that waltz out of my mouth
waiting to be heard;
how obsurd.
I create a storm unborn to a norm.
Torn from the thorns
that swarmed me with sores,
running toward the corner
that will open the doors.
I twirl around this twisted town
tearing down the balconies
towering over the kings
with the crowns.
They will all drown.
I travel out of the crowd
because i am bound
to the sweeter sound
that I have found
with no one around.
Molding mountains
with a meticulous touch,
making a masterpiece of myself
manifesting my adrenaline rush.
Let me feel it pump.
Through my veins,
something like insane rage
when I was siamese
to the chains,
until the day I stared back
at the eye of change
and took the stage.
I learned to rearrange the lanes
accustomed to living
within range,
levitating on the waves
that start to surface
on a new age.

I am here; I am absent.
I am near; I am past tense.
I am silence; I am communication.
I am timeless; I am preservation.
I am the words in this conversation.
I am simple; I am complexity.
I am a ripple; my waves crash heavily.
I am wise; I know nothing.
I am goodbyes; I am coming.
I am love; I am afraid.
I am stuck; I mapped the maze.
I am fearless; I am the reason you feel this.
I am sensitive; I am strong.
I am relative to the lyrics in your songs.
I am.
You are.
We should be, everything that could be.
Signed sincerely,
An imperfect human.

- L.G

It is 3:00a.m,
and a cold breeze has suddenly rushed into my room.
These chills seem to have woken me up
to have a conversation with the moon.
The moon that remains so bold,
to shine so bright in such immense darkness.
How brave of her to have the ability to harness the
tarnished cities of which she oversees..
the battered leaves that tomorrow, will leave with the breeze..
the purest hearts that drop down to their knees
in the middle of the street
begging you to please,
have some sympathy..
the thieves that leave with the keys to our hearts,
the ones who said you would never be stranded,
yet you watched them depart.
She sees the things
that wake us out of our coldest dreams.
And yet, her energy bleeds
to relieve the shackles
and loosen your seams.
It seems we don't notice those that breathe,
unless they play a character
in this illusionary theme...
a scheme of how things should be in society.
She observes quietly.
How brave of her to absorb
the reflection of tears
that fall on our floors.
This stillness is something I have come to adore, more and more.
It plays jazz music on the deepest depths of my candescent core.
The door is open, and from myself, I am torn.
I have decided to be bold
like the moon's pull that allowed this ballpoint to roll.
It is time for me to go back to sleep,
and awake reborn.

- L.G.

You made me hang on every word,
like you handed me the noose.
You thought that words could never hurt,
I guess my tears never showed you.

I cut myself open and left
my soul exposed -
My heart was dead, but still,
this flower arose.
You wondered how my eyes
were so stale
but I saw so clear,
how my heart was so numb
but the sensation of feeling
was so dear.
You never knew why
when you touched me
I always held on tighter.
And i told you that you remind me
That I am here
and to stretch my arms
a little wider.
You reminded me
to have a little more faith
before it was too late,
to save myself from watching
everything I have go down the drain.

I think maybe I was watching
my wasteful energy float
down the stream along the curb,
but I still smiled.
I was so happy.
Why would I be so content?
I figured it out when I met you.
You showed me everything I was,
was not who I intended to be.
But the way my life would change,
would be way more challenging.

I was angry
that you failed to prepare me
for the self-destruction
I would endure.
But then I realized
you knew I'd figure it out on my own,
and that my pain
had to be heard.
You knew that I
wouldn't have even tried
if I didn't willingly say goodbye
to the old me. I met the new me,
and you already knew me.

I'm still so impressed.
It's like you took the pencil out of my hand and perfectly drew me.

- L.G.

An imaginative mind can fly into a space that cannot be traced.
This is how I gain my freedom.
A positive climb can never die in a place where negative energy is defaced.
This is what I call my kingdom.
They often wonder why my words sound obsurd and unheard to the herd of sheep that choose to sleep and never take on the wings of a bird.
I tell them that it takes time to be heard when your words don't curve to defeat and that's all they want to see.
They don't become awake to my dreams.
They live on their knees and i could die on my feet, right now.
Do you hear the sound coming from my mouth?
I hope you're around to see the dreams that once formed within me -
The desire to be something more than me.
I aim high, they shoot low.
They will try to ******* out at the knees but won't remember that I said I would die on my feet, right now.
How could you want me to drown when you can clearly see that I already bleed everything within me?
You cannot destroy water, and i am the sea.
I am we.
I cannot leave.
I cannot not be the diety.
Call me self-righteous, but this is my destiny.
It's kind of funny how the more I study this world, the more this world keeps testing me.
I never needed a calculator to calculate the declining rate of those that emulate.
So I decided to innovate as I elevate.
Let me penetrate your heart, since my words have yet to resonate.

- L.G.

I guess I'm at a point where it's hard to accept the fact that these facts aren't always facts, something like a trap in an acid bath. We all feel the rath but refuse to do the math, with no plan of attack to give more than we lack. Our world is a black cat, and we still blame it all on bad luck.
How many times have we said that this life just simply isn't enough? I guess there's simplicity in giving up, and that specifically stems from a gut of empty authenticity. We ARE electricity, but instead of honing in on ourselves, we fixate on the T.V. screen. It makes me want to scream, honestly.
I'm so sick of the mean hearted schemes that are believed to be what we "need". The generation of children that don't even know what it means to claim how they want to be seen.
We lack ownership.
To be real is to keep your soul clean in a ***** room, to bloom through all of this rain and the gloom, to never doom another person, because you have never walked in their shoes. You dive in the chemically toxic pool, and drown others for being "thirsty". I think we are all parched for some mercy on this journey. We cannot demand perfection when we, ourselves, could never be worthy. I guess I'm just in a hurry to correct a vision that remains so blurry. I guess I'm in a vortex of complex rejects who think it's best to neglect the steps to reach an untouched depth.
Hold your respect, I am not done yet.
I guess this life runs through my pen. I might run out of ink before I reach the end, because I feel myself talking to these lines like they're my only friends. I guess I'm saying that I think people pretend because they don't know how to ascend beyond energies that only suspend.
If I could lend you peace of mind, I would crack my veins all over these lines,
seal it in an envelope, and you could read behind my eyes. I guess you would be surprised that sometimes these words only flow like water because I cry at the sight of the world's demise.

- L.G.

And it seems that lately,
they run and hide when inevitably,
their actions no longer can be seen through the words they spoke, so openly.
And yet, they notice me,
but not the things that I see, or see through.
I see you.
But when the mirror is perfectly placed, towards their face,
they are off and away, again today,
to run away from the day that could teach them to stay.
And so I say, we will never learn the lessons we do not search for.
Or even more, we will keep running to closed doors
that were built to remind you that you ignored they keys that jingle so dormant
on your soul's cold floor.
It's in the fire of my core that I learned to be as fluid as the ocean shore.
Being as vast as that,
my mind becomes confused when they run from all that they lack.
Moving fast just to stay in place,
now I know why they can't look me in my face. It's a disgrace, the way that they blame the day. Everything they say,
while looking the other way,
reaching for the things they only would push away when day breaks.
And it seems like lately,
they are wasting their breath, spoken so shaky. this is why they do not shake me,
I am so unmoved by anything that does not move with me, genuinely.
A stale tone never would break me,
though my voice travels, ever so faintly.

A friend once told me that all of his inspiration was lost, it was a half past 2.
I wondered how much of himself it would cost to wander a bit, and try something new.
Maybe this is out of the blue, but perhaps we can find inspiration in all of its absence, too.
Inspiration is in me and it's in you.
It's where you sit right now, just enjoying the view.
It's the smiles that graze by you, if only a few.
It's the change in the space that could never be replaced.
A positive embrace that becomes written all over my face.
I told him, "sometimes, we must change our questions and readjust our eyes. And by surprise, the sunset becomes the sunrise."
The difference between a decline and an incline.
The distance between looking forward and falling behind.
Inspiration that is in front of us -
The heart invested trust that sends us a rush that is never undone.
The cold-hearted lust that turns to love under the sun.
Your words are not lost, they have only just begun.
To wander is to observe.
We find inspiration between the fine lines of all the words that we've heard.
I told him that I think we deserve to imagine our world...
To become what you desire to serve.
To see all the lessons learned and unlearned, in the midst of your hurt.
My last words curved, without a slur -
"Stay grounded. There is always inspiration implanted in the dirt."

- 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.

it’s not about finding, it’s about attracting.
it’s not about forcing, it’s about adapting.
don’t keep your head down, unless you’re staying focused on your steps.
but even then, i hope you keep your eyes to the sky, whether rain or shine.
i hope you always weather the weather that comes your way.
it’s not about, wishing the pain away.
but more about, understanding the rain that drips on your window pane.
It’s not about complacency, it’s about relativity.
it’s about, remaining patient, holding onto your dignity.
it’s about understanding, withstanding. trusting in, something bigger than yourself.
it’s about asking yourself, are you worthy of what you swear you’re deserving of?
your mistakes, are not the answer to this question.
it’s what you hold, what you choose to invest in, what you’ve digested about your character, what you have to offer for the greater more, the greater good, inside of you.
it’s not about blocking your blessings, or being less than what your lessons have taught you.
do not be afraid to give way to your destiny.
it would be a shame to cry out in the middle of the night, only hoping that your negativity doesn’t tangle your feet.
because it will.
it’s not about self sabotage, it’s about self preservation, letting your soul live on, far past the moment you are gone from this life.
to give to this life, is to be it.

I drip through dimensions of thorough desires.
The darkness of the disturbed and tired gave way to this blazing fire,
the flames burned higher.
I swivel through sections of saturated similes,
styles pour out of me
because I wear my heart on my sleeve.
you can wear this shirt just to see
what this world has done to me,
Complicated meanings and undeserved beatings,
we're either tied to the floor or levitating towards the ceilings.
These poetic vibrations frequently wave through the waves of my soul,
The sound of my words to your ears
is equivalent to a half note
that is made whole.
I twist through the turmoil that has been placed on my tender heart,
Digging through trenches
trying to find where we failed from the start.
I'd like to travel back in time and rearrange our future,
I could unravel my spine just to rewind your mind,
I'll put it back together with a suture.
Do not confuse my dark with a saddened song,
because I have been fighting for so long to be strong.
It's like second nature
being no stranger to the anger
that they try to inflict within me.
I shield the shadows and walk with power,
one day I will stand on the king's tower hovering over me,
screaming "it was all a dream" so loud even Biggie would hear me
and feel the heat beneath our feet.
So how could you not feel me? How could you not hear me?
Maybe a moment of silence is what you need
to retrieve the message that's buried deep
in these dimensions of delicate speech.
- L.G.

That's not how it works, that's not how it goes.
I'll show you how it feels to live every day on in the very tips of your toes,
trying to see just beyond a vision you've already reached for.
I'll show you what it's like to need more.
I'll show you what's it's like, I'll show you what to bleed for.
I'll show you how to breathe forth, whispers bold enough to blow the whole world up. How it feels to have your words come out of the back of your throat at half the note that you really feel,
and still terrorize the most perfect ears to have ever listened in years.
To hold tears of people you only picture dressed in a smile, ones that would make you run for miles upon miles.
I'll show you what it feels like but only for awhile...
while all things are true within my truths, sometimes even the recluse refuse to lose the connections that became their muse. Sometimes we wake up, and say, I'll show you it feels to understand the confused.
To make the ironic, incredibly iconic.
I'll show you where I lost it,
I'll show you how I built it back.
I'll show you the line and where I crossed it;
I don't know how to hold back.
Maybe it's that I lack, or that I was given, a concept in my heart that released me from a prison
away from chains around my name and shackles that laid suffocating my veins.
I am free now, no longer pressed in my shame. I was to blame for everyday that I remained a day away from my serenity.
And now, I feel so heavenly.
Flying free, and lately, you remember me.

~ L.E.G

What is it with this generation of lost souls? Do you ever just sit and think, where did we lose the part that made us whole?
Somewhere along the way, hating love and loving hate became the forefront of everything we say.

Somehow it became the generation of kids who probably won't realize they're adults until, one day, they look in the mirror and see that they're 45, still in the same pair of designer jeans and expensive shoes they could barely even afford. And the only reason they bought them was to post a picture on instagram just to get false sense of validation from people they barely even know.

We lost sight of the importance of being an advocate of self.
When we have money, that's our only weath.
What about wealth in mind, body, spirit?
This generation would rather snort lines for an out of body experience.
How sad.
The generation that will laugh watching others cry, just to fit in.
What, exactly, are you trying to fit into?
What is it really, that prevents you from being in-tune?
Why the moon isn't as interesting as that little corner of doom in a messy room, while you have no desire to bloom.

I want so badly for this generation to be better, together.
To treat one another like sister and brother -
It's time for everyone to blow their cover.
Take off the mask, they're no longer needed.
Be the future, because we are. Become what you want to be seeded.
It's okay to cry or to ask for help. Put your pride aside, go inside to find that real wealth.
I challenge you to be better.
Look yourself In the mirror and surrender.
I wish you love and peace through all of your endeavors.

Love.
- L.G.

Crawl to me when you are down and out.
I will stand for you, in any moment of doubt.
It's cold on the floor when you're at war with yourself.
I hope you don't ever let the money stand between genuine wealth.
The wealth that is hidden behind your eyes,
the truth that obliterates all the lies,
or the strings attached to the things that needed to be tied
Together, we will make ourselves better.
If you hang on every letter,
I'll show you that the verbs are even better.
The actions and the reactions that send you the wind
in any weather.
I could be the adverb through all the words that you've heard,
and hopefully it will help you understand why
I describe my life in these rhymes through the darkest night.
If you let me share my light,
I will fight the shadows until they are covered in white.
You used to be so cold like snow in the winter.
I'm just happy you let me in that skin within,
like a splinter.
Go figure, the picture returned much bigger
when you focused.
You can't live a life solely on hope,
but don't let that leave you hopeless.
I just want you to notice the solstice that rolled in
on our fortress.
The coldest breeze will mean nothing to me.
Because when I bleed,
I recognize the warmth that is pouring out of me.
Just breathe these breaths that leave you breathless,
and i will touch your soul so gently, that your dreams will leave you restless.
We, are never senseless.
I know you sense this,
as your eyes press on the abyss,
recognizing all the things you may have missed
in the midst of the blurring mist.

- L.G.

..And although I am content as I write this,
I have found it hard to write through my happiness. For days, months, years, I continued to harvest this pain. Self inflicted; sometimes, one might say, that I was to blame - inflicting pain on my name whenever it rang. Or maybe sometimes, the world, I found a little too aggressive to tame. Trying to remain centered in my frame while all of these picture frames around this place starting taking center stage on a new terrain, or an old one: focal points of the past. Look at all that I have passed. So many leaking words, screaming to be heard but never last; perhaps only pressed into the pages I turned and still turn, that may be the only things I know assured. But I choose not to see my life as depicted so blurred. My vision is not perfect; but a vision when you know that you're worth it can create a mind that is certain on what's pertinent. I am a servant to myself. Health, wealth, and all combined. yet they still wish me hell while they stand beside the wishing well. Oh well. What am I to do? When the hopes of tomorrow might not ever become true...but to become so succumbed into thinking that we are inevitably doomed would have my mind, heart, and the very force that never holds them apart, separated in two. And so I choose. I choose when I speak, I choose when to heal.And it's like writing my pains allowed them to stand in an image a little more real, whereas my absence to the page represents my ultimate appeal: applying a happiness where words just can't seem to peel back the genuine feel. I guess I am healed. I thank you for guiding me here and allowing me to hear. I'll be near.

My heart is heavy today,
as I try to wrap my brain around how I can make a way,
so that we all forever say that we are equal.
This seems like a sequel to the darkened history that leaves our world blistering
with the burns that lurk and linger from the gun powder behind the finger on the trigger.
This is much bigger than me and I know it's hard to see
that we can all be free.
If I could bleed for you,
I would grieve so hard that the trees would rip from their roots.
I would stand in front of these guns that they shoot at you.
If I could clean the hearts that they constantly pollute,
I would give my breath through the symphony of the most beautiful flute.
My heart is heavy but it's been so already.
We are treading on thin ice and we grow much colder when it all breaks.
This place is so focused on ranks and defacing a nation,
burning every location where peace should be stationed.
If I could take away the pain of this acid rain raining down,
I would offer to you the only sane part of my brain
so you could see one day without rain.
I too, am in pain.
And we are the ones to blame.

- L.G.

I'd hope that you'd see my perspective through all my projections,
all these interjections that came from the lessons in moments I have been tested.
And now it feels like I am testing the deity that moves within me.
Though I am not He, He is the sum of I.
Oh my, time flies through the darkest pits of my eyes.
Watching the sun rise and night fall,
when all befalls - the very reason I used to crawl, being held up by the only walls in the home that I would call,
or the walls that I mounted up to protect my heart from the very things that would ask me to halt or at least stall.
looking at them like "don't you know that I want it all?"
They ask me why I want it at all,
and I'm glad they asked.
Recognizing my purpose through every task is what I have asked myself to master.
Through disaster and through the water, the intentions that I offer will be as pure as water at the alter.
And I can be even softer than that.
But I can also be the one that never calls back, Depending on how you act.
Depending on how you blend with my plan of attack, we can be vast or we can retract every statement ever spoken when my love was awoken, out in the open.
They leave me exposed,
fully clothed,
stripping me of the trust I pulled from the instinct of my gut.
So it is a must that I, remain in sight, to self love that I, composed tonight.
It is the same love of yesterday, that never ran away, even when they, hold my hand while they turn their face.

I position the points to these letters ever so delicately, so that they can roam free through this never-ending sea, as they have been trying to do ever so desperately.
And my hand, it shakes somewhat dangerously - a calm soul with a heart filled with anxiety.
I sit quietly.
At times, it is admittedly frightening...the things that cling like magnets to the surface of me.
Do you ever wonder if you are deserving?
And if so, how far do you go?
Do you know that hope without growth creates the monotone note?
I position the points to these letters so that maybe, I can approach you better.
Maybe you will learn to see me beyond measure, light as a feather, drifting away as naturally as the weather.
Do you catch yourself asking why you ask these questions in the middle of the night?
Do you ever get tired of the fight?
We should take flight out of our minds and land somewhere far out of sight.
My insight ignites the pounding eyes that sit in the pockets of my heart.
Seeing and feeling, they live on different continents, separately a part. Not apart.
The middle is the kindle for the art that arches through the tips of these letters and ends at the grip of my cramping hands.
For, everytime I sit down to write, I am obligated to take a stand...
Or at least take the time to understand why these words never flow as delicately as I once planned.

- L.G.

I feel that I am glowing.
So long, I have been floating.
If I'm wrong, my heart will keep on hoping
to be the song that's helping with the coping.
I know it gets hard,
but everyday we walk on the concrete.
Put down your guard,
and i promise to approach you softly.
We could feel like we were soaring.
We could peel out of our minds,
I think we should get going.
By the way, your aura is golden.
It's beautiful how you never let trust in yourself be stolen.
We perfect the art of holding on...
Like your favorite song waking you up at the crack of dawn,
or tension so strong it could break an arm.
In everything, I hear a melody,
presented by "we" the unseen;
I walk breathlessly.
I wonder if you wander aimlessly or if you graze through this maze of life gracefully..
So long, I've waited patiently.
So long, you know I have a place to be.
If I am wrong, I suggest you start chasing me.
Follow me and you might see
what it's like to be escaping free.

- L.G.

Some days, I speak so soft. Some days, I speak with a sting from the stiff of my upper lip. Some days, I'm sorry. Some days, something's really gotta give. Sometimes it's like, can I live? Can I love? Some days it's like, is love even enough? Some days it's like, maybe they don't know the definition of such. Like when nothing is just a little too much, and too much just can't be touched. Some days, it's like I can't be touched. Some days, everything moves me. Some days, nothing can soothe me. Some days, the misunderstood stand right next to my heart. And in the same day, I am indefinitely a part of what we all hold on to just to depart from. Holding on to let go.
Some days, my timing couldn't come at a worse time.
Some days, my aligning teeters on a tight rope where I have to walk past my shadow just to get to my light.
Talk about balance. And speaking of, sometimes my balance shows me the definition of gravity. Some days, it's a tragedy. Some days, it's majesty. Majestic, some days I'm pathetic. Never mind that. No I'm not. I'm human. Everyday I am authentic.
My relevance relates to every day I stay, making a way to say, I'm not just aiming to make a way,
But to create a peace I constantly pray in, and I lay in, such serenity. And so in every way, I am I diamond, no matter which way they try to say my name. Lauren, you are exactly what you make.
Some days you need to play it safe, for the sake of your heart. But these days you need to barricade through whatever is in the way, so that you can confidently remain sane in the face of pain.
Whatever you are, you are a stain of what has come and what has came before. And I know you are reaching for more. Lend yourself, to you. Lend yourself your hands. It is all within, the skin you are wrapped in. Amen.

This is the calm before the storm.
Like I've said before, I am a storm unborn to a norm.
Trap my body with poisonous thorns, but my mind will soar like never before.
I implore that you learn to adore all that resides in the depths of your core.
Learn more.
This is the dream that wakes you out of your sleep.
Lucidity that bleeds deep into your dignity.
Take a look at the imagery.
It reflects the mirror I dive into like water, rather frequently.
I am an element of the trinity.
Mind. Body. Soul.
I am becoming whole in a black hole that I once thought I would never know.
This is the answer to my deep-seated question.
For some reason I continue to ask like a broken record, but I find myself always learning a new lesson.
This is the answer to the question you never bothered to ask.
In the trash you will find a stash of everything from my past that used to cut beautifully, like stained glass.
I am the glue, who knew?
The wind blew and the storm came much too soon.
Too soon...to you.
I grew to know that everything I knew would be so far gone with the changing view.
Like the lightning in these dark skies, I am just trying to get through.

- 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.

To calculate the perfect math and succeed in society,
must we have to subtract the right to live free,
and do so privately?
Do we have to become unwrapped and molded in the warm hands of the man
that overstands but never will understand?
We are not banned to take a stand to the plan
implanted before we even began.
Do we have to learn anger before we are no longer strangers to peace?
Because I would never put a heart in danger,
but I could use a frustration release.
Do you see what I mean? -
Being torn between how they want me to be and noticing these things
that would leave my soul unclean...
I think that we should represent the unseen:
The things they don't believe reside within you and me.
The unity that could be.
The troubled hearts with the ever growing will to breathe.
The neglected souls that still, won't ever deceive.
The bewildered trees that still paint the scene.
Isn't it lovely?
Would you still love me?
If you knew you had to take off your mask,
would you still trust me?
I promise we could run free.
Follow me, we could make time move slow.
The cosmos bleed, let's reflect their glow.
We could make it so
its never our time to go.

- L.G.

I often wonder if I am detached from myself.
Maybe I am too in-tuned to the moon.
I'm the rose that became fully bloomed under the sunlight of noon.
I took my doom and ripped into two.
I shatter my pride but ironically,
my pride told me to put it back with glue.
Who knew that I would walk in these shoes,
blood pumping through my hopeful heart and I'm singing the blues.
The way my soul moves, I swivel in and out of the grooves of the wounds that you can only see in my eyes.
I see the world like you'll see my demise; beautiful immortality saying her softest goodbyes.
When I cry, doves hear me.
I flock with the birds over the clearest water,
and it sees right through me.

By surprise, I stayed until the peak of the sunrise.
Time shifting, color saturation
through my life blocking blinds.
Sometimes it seems I'm being sized on a scale
superficially ran by non seeing eyes.
Your ignorance gives me butterflies,
not the kind that love finds
but the kind that makes your stomach tie.
When you see a flower die,
does it ever make you think
you've been wasting time?
You might be the flower
within my rhyme.
We could take tomorrow
and rewind to today
and be fine.
Look in the mirror..
I see your face, you see mine.
The reflections incline
but more people turn blind,
so we retract back to the boy
that only knew fear
so he never would shine.
I found out the world was mine
right as I was staring at this sun light. Illuminating my world
as it beams on my mind.
It should have been a rainbow,
the spectrum of its glow.
But unlike the wilting leaves of this flower, our true colors
can always grow.

I close my eyes to fall into the spiral of my twisted mind.
I twirl and dance like a child in your dreams,
picking flowers from your garden of mystery.
I lay in a field of grass and see the clouds mold to the shape of my spine.
My imagination flies.
These white clouds in the sky resemble the purest doves,
roaming free as they flew by.
Staring into the abyss, beauty looked into my eyes and i saw and part of you and I.
The infinite possibilities of the infinite...
I remain here, my body surrendering to what is bigger than I.
I put my hands firmly around the neck of the universe, but I'm the only one that chokes.
The answers form in the mind of reason and rhyme
and spill out of the back of my throat.
The cosmos live inside this abstract mind.
In time, I will become as light as the doves that fly.
Levitate beyond the division line that separates your heart and mine.
What is the combination to the lock that closes our minds?
I wandered.
The answer ran through my veins under this tree of wonder.

I opened my eyes, and there was only thunder.

-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.

I slowly straighten out the scattered signs that have been aligned in this saturated mind.
My mind straddles time and these rhymes, and in the middle you will find the reason.
The reason for all the seasons.
The blissful breath that I am surely breathing.
The misleading beating of a heart that was once bleeding.
If you look closely, you can see this scar that proves that all wounds heal with time - even the unspoken.
I bet you never noticed.
Maybe we lose our focus and neglect the notion that our pain is not made to be self-extortion.
It is more important that we indulge in the moment of self-control.
Let the moon pull you from the cold heart that you live with.
Our doom will soon be illuminated by the give of forgiveness.
I have taken on the shape of infinite realms.
These dimensions were never shallow, but to get to this soul of water, you must first crack my shell.
Do you dare to dwell on your tears and unacknowledged fears?
That's a long, lonely road, darling;
I met my demons on a road that I couldn't steer.
I learned to take the wheel on my weakest day that particular year.
And those scars started to vanish, like how the fog settles and it all seems clear.
I am a pressed rose in an old, dusty boom.
This page was once visited;
You can see the fingerprints of a sensitive hand...
Look.

- L.G.

I can't erase the place that only my mind knows.
My soul's woes know that they have a place to go.
So my tongue rolls in and out of the doubt placed within my heart.
I speak these things quietly, so that my melody never falls apart.
I am my art.
I admire the smooth beat that sings to me in my sleep;
The dreams that make me weak at the knees.
The power invested in me is sometimes, hard to believe.
It used to be impossible to see my dreams reflected in real life.
Until I realized, I had to say goodbye to the times that I chose to be blind to the light that shined directly in my eyes.
Perhaps that's why so many are blind.
It is not our darkness, but our light that leaves us afraid in the silence of night, time after time.
Maybe we never believed we could be the person we see in the epitome of our dreams.
So let me sing to you this serene theme, until you feel what it means.
If you're anything like me, sometimes you fear yourself.
The power that we hold goes beyond material wealth.
You must listen to your conscience, but first you must cleanse what's inside,
That divine mind.
It will all be fine.
Allow yourself to come alive in these dire times.
It is our time to thrive,
If you would only accept the invite.

- L.G

They ask us to breathe, while they stay gasping for air. They ask us to reach, while they pull back on our chair. They tell us to speak, and ask us to be silent when it wouldn't be fair. They ask that we see, only to criticize a question brewing in our stare.
I often wonder if it's something in the air, like breathing, freely, is the only thing I'm chained to.
Like needing meaning is the meaning behind all I've came to. And look what I've come to...
They ask that we hold on tight to the things that are meant to fall through our fingers. They ask us to let go, let go of things we know, let go of all that lingers.
So how do we believe in forever?
When our touch can only offer so much and our cries see so many goodbyes, when our time never really ties into the time we put into the lows to see the height of the highs. But we do. We do believe in forever. And I hope forever doesn't eternally leave us to bask in an unanswered prayer of hope.
You know, I hope. You know, I hope to remain in such a place of trust. The place where I...unapologetically feel just. Where I feel just, the feeling. The same place where I get to hold onto the meaning of what I'm reaching for. The same place where I don't have to explain it anymore. The same place where forever is a revolving door, Or like a revolver to your very core. They ask that we touch the sun, and then they bring us a gun, and tell us to choose.

I am entirely triggered and this is my muse.

It's insulting when you have to remind your own family that this is important.
They gave me a crash course on devotion, and how to embrace these emotions.
Maybe they didn't think their words would resonate, so deep.
Like a volcano, it caused an explosion inside these eyes..
Creating craters of a vision enormous.  
My vision is gorgeous,
like a paid-off mortgage in the house of your dreams.
Would you believe this is me?
Once a little girl who was too timid to live it,
Now she is way past livid
and needs a one way ticket...

Take me to the place where
I remain me, but nothing stays the same .
Make me adapt to change.
Watch me push beyond the range that you have unreasonably set on my stage.
This is far beyond unreasonable doubt.
There is no wage that could define my soul.
I am in control.
Subtle hate and false love,
I know I will feel this like i feel all of the above.
I look in the mirror
and the reflection presents real love.
So as long as I'm breathing,
these breaths will continue breeding
Everything we've been needing.

- L.G.