Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Dec 2017
Chilling but can’t rest,
it’s chilling to know nothing lasts,
living in the most beautiful nightmare,
making peace with the demons in my night terrors,

still trippin’ on the man in the mirror,
lost a bid in an auction for a Michael Jackson self portrait,
made 10 times profit at the same time from BitCoin investment,
best way to describe me is a mix of emotions I guess,

getting texts from Budapest,
my favorite Lover telling me to get some rest,
it’s 5:45pm there and 3:45am here,
I’m in Sydney and she’s in Budapest,

I’m up all alone Down Under,
doing shows putting my emotions in prose,
had a show tonight where I spilled my soul,
right there on stage I’m such a clumsy muse,

but I digress,

still depressed that I’m not more famous,
even though I’m known as one of the most known wordsmiths,
writing my words in verses that are almost perfect,
found a way describe our vibes in a way that’s well worded,

my poems are more known than me,
people know my name but not my face,
been read over a million times,
still only have around a thousand friends,

still few really know me,
even though my words are read by many including you,
which is kinda like,
liking someone for what they are not who they are,
note to one's self,
if you really love someone take the time to get to know them,

was asked what famous is,
answered by saying it’s when,
more people have heard of you than you’ve heard of,
well if that’s the criteria I guess I’m famous then,

and now that I am,
I have to be careful to not let fame become obsession,

or I might go on the same road as Michael,
Michael Jackson,
light my hair on fire then die all alone,
from an overdose of pain killer prescriptions,

yes I guess I’m famous now,
or at least my words are,
because over a million poem have read my poems,
but I’d say I’m more of a planet than a star,

anyways I definitely don’t have a million friends,
only 1300 to be exact if you check my Facebook stats,
1300 real ones that know I’ve got their backs,
and that my friend is a fact,

because “I only accept friend requests,
from people I know in real life.”,
that’s a message you’d get from me,
if you requested to be my friend and don’t actually know me,

anyways where were we?

And why am I write this diatribe?

It’s now 4:00am,
my mind is wandering my words are rambling,
and I need to get some sleep,
because everything’s starting to feel extra strange,

chilling but can’t rest,
it’s chilling to know nothing lasts,
living in the most beautiful nightmare,
making peace with the demons in my night terrors…

∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆
Written by
Aaron LaLux  33/M/Hollywood
(33/M/Hollywood)   
369
   Carina
Please log in to view and add comments on poems