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Lindsey Grace Sep 2019
They say
Their morning glories have bloomed
With the rise of the sun

The look of a flower that will stay blossomed
The fullness of the flower
Looks to never
Lose that form

A continuation of sweet flavors
and validation
Now asleep
Only asleep
With the rest of the town

With the moon lit
Mine must have
Fallen back asleep

But now there is nothing
No blooming
No whispers of kind comments
nor ear for reciprocation

The space now looking an awful lot
Like when the morning glory was just planted
Like the morning glory was never planted

Was there even a flower to begin with?
I simply don't believe so.

I'd promise to not anticipate it's bloom tomorrow
But I cannot make that promise
- Is it all in my head or is this truly the cycle of this disappointing plant
Lindsey Grace Nov 2016
with every hour I do not see your name appear on my phone
the red light that reads "Exit" grows brighter and brighter
you will see someday that you were wrong
about who you though I was
you'll wish you would've
gave me a
Lindsey Grace Oct 2016
The music filled my silver SUV
It matched the sky,
my car that is.
My mood.
The music.
Grey, with a twinkle.

Looking back now I can feel the velocity of the car
pulling at my body
Around the gradual turn,
the road is wet
from the snow melting.
Next to the deep grey asphalt
that screamed for summer,
There are sad looking piles
of it
that glimmered with soot.
It was one of those weird days one the cusp of spring
where it was
40 degrees.

I was on my way to the tall boy's house
the one who tears at my heart today.
What I would give to feel that moment at its fullest again.
The vibrations of the song
I fell in love with,
filling the vehicle.
The chill of the seat,
The heat on full blast
and leaving it there when I became plenty warm.
I had my driver window open an inch
to snag a whiff of the clean
still crisp
winter air.

I want to be where I was,
in my warm car
singing harmonies
to that one Lumineers CD
Holding on to the hope you will interpret this how you want.
I promise mine will not match.
Lindsey Grace Aug 2016
His kiss didn't taste like candy
or blooming flowers
on some "crisp spring morning"

He tasted like human
a good
hygienic human

earthy almost
like a kiss on the neck
it lingers through my senses

I am addicted to his
all of those hims

there seems to be new hims every month
a new mouth

but his tasted the best by far
Lindsey Grace Aug 2016
I forgot
I have forgotten who I was
and why I came up onto this roof
why I do this so often

I come up here to simplify

In my house, there is internet and music
and my computer, TV, nick nacks, memories, the past,
the future
the now
it is all down there

Up here...
up here there are clouds
sometimes stars
trees, grass, a shed, two sheds,
a road that no one travels on
occasionally music in the distance
from a house near the lake
the one that parties too much
full of the nows
but here
birds, crickets, cicadas, bats
the earth moves around me

Up here
I have what I always will have
even if I lose everything
I will have this simple beauty
and they will keep believing
that as long as people come to their party
they have it all
see Undiscerning for the prequel to this poem.
Lindsey Grace Aug 2016
I have never seen such a blue sky
on the rooftop after a long shower outside
Drinking hot chamomile tea

I am happy
In a new top
the color of the trees that surround the cottage
I pity any being who isn't me at this very moment

Though hold on...
My chamomile tea has been polluted
with vinegar
I try to accept the new taste
find pleasure in it
but the vinegar comes back to snap the back of my tongue

This moment has been altered
and the neighbors don't know how to use their quiet voices
my phone is dying
and I spent the majority of my time up here trying to get the perfect picture for Instagram
See the Critical Juncture for an extension of this poem.
Lindsey Grace Jul 2016
Sick of the metaphors
Tell me the truth

Here I will go first:
There was a boy
who I thought would change
because I was different

But I am not
and he is still using me
to get what he wants

and I will continue to let him
because I need to be in his life
whether it was this or that

and life will continue
and, eventually, without him;
and I will continue to do this until I realize I don't need him.
which is far away from here.
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