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Aaron LaLux May 2018
Still Running

She’s still running,
so when I offered her my home,
and a place to unpack,
she didn’t even stay long enough to hang her clothes,

I suppose,
we’ve all gotta find our way on our own,
I suppose,
not every place we lay our head is our home,

in a zone,
can’t answer my phone,
don’t know where it started,
or where it will end,

she said she wanted a friend,
someone she could feel comfortable,
but I betrayed her trust because I’m a Man in Lust,
so instead of a friend I touched her like her drunk uncle did,

I’m sick,
don’t go so far as to put anything in,
but I did cross a line,
when I got turned on and held her hand,

****,

****,
what happened to our plans,
****,
what happened to a Happily Ever After end,

what ever happened to functional,
why do we have to all grow up so fckt up,
when well we find a place where we can heal,
who will help you me us we finally grow up,

I’m torn up,
and I know exactly how she feels,
because I was taken advantage of as a kid too,
and I know exactly how much she wants to heal,

but you can’t heal a wound,
if you don’t open it up,
and she’s still busy running from your pain,
and covering up her cuts,

and this is exactly why,
when I started to cry,
she began to get scared,
and decided to take flight,

because she thought I was becoming,
exact what she feared the most,
which is an unstable person,
that can not offer her solid support,

so she left,
without closure,
and I messaged her,
once I’d gained my composure,

I apologized for being so emotional,
and for not communicating with her clearly,
I wrote her I’d do anything to see her again,
I wrote her that I missed her very dearly,

she wrote back saying I could meet her at the airport,
to say goodbye,
but asked me not to ask her to come back,
because she wasn’t changing her mind,

I immediately agreed,
and asked her what time her flight was,
9:45 at LAX,
which was exactly when and where my flight was,

so we met at the airport,
and had a soul to soul,
you know the kind of conversation,
that simply can not be had over a telephone,

I apologized,
for not being the man then that I was now,
and told her,
if she came back I’d be willing to take that vow,
she smiled,
saying we’d only known each other a few days,
I smiled,
and replied when it comes to Infinite Love time doesn’t matter anyways,

we said our farewells,
and I watched her disappear up the stairs,
then I went to check in for my flight,
because I too had to get out of there,

and wouldn’t you know it,
in a twist of fate,
it turned out that my flight and her flight,
were departing from the same gate,

31A and 31B,
this must be destiny,
so there we were a with each other again,
just her and me,

and this is when she told me,
as the salty water began to appear in windows to her soul,
that when I’d called her to invite her to California,
she’d thought that she’d finally found a place where she could feel comfortable,

how she’d been in this cycle of meeting men that made her feel unstable,
and I knew she’d been in this cycle ever since her drunk uncle,
and I knew that even though I’d improved and could provide the stability she craved,
it was too late and she was gone gone away to probably repeat the same mistakes,

because she’s not going to get rid of the issue until the issue is faced,
and she’s not going to be able to face her issues if she keeps running away,
and I could have been the one to see her through be her truth and heal her too,
but instead I just lusted after her became emotionally unstable and pushed her away,

and that hurt me more than almost anything ever,
because I realized I’d betrayed her trust in the worst way,
I realized all she needed was a true friend and then maybe a lover,
not a lover that she didn’t love that couldn’t behave,

and then I watched her walk away,
for the 3rd time in as many of days,
and even though she walked,
we both knew what she was really doing was running away…

∆ LaLux ∆

Newest book is FREE here: www.scribd.com/document/367036005
Lyda M Sourne Mar 2018
Hop on a plane
Leave the past
For the skies above

Would I keep sane
Would unfortunes last
In war and peace and love

Watch out for rain
In accurate forecast
The world comes in halves

It waxes and wanes
The moon in skies vast
The light I cannot have
Airport blues
Chloe Feb 2018
The bustle of wheels and shoes across marble
are muted by the high ceilings
of the great Arrival Hall.

Underneath its fluorescent skies
a long back river flows
winding around the headlands
of counters and
disappearing into x-ray caverns.

The smell of suitcases hangs in the air like
morning mist pooling around ankles.
Not quite fading with the passing of day,
but mingling with wafts of fresh coffee
-and jet fuel.

From somewhere in the distance a chapel bell chimes,
announcing that Passengers of Flight AQ284 can
board the plane in ten minutes time.

the Passengers flock to their gate with
the dependency of cattle to the bell
and trickle, single file
through a metal esophagus and into

a Silver Dragon that flies at midnight
taking off from a starlit path
and into the cold dark night
its echoing, parting roar
speaks of farewells and
bright futures
and
distant lands

so very


far



away.
Idiosyncrasy Nov 2017
It was always me
waiting for you to come back
or me watching you leave.
Soulace Apr 2017
I hate airports.
I hate the vibrant colours, the staff who work happily, even through the mass of sadness that countless others are experiencing around them.
I hate the food, which is good, but sometimes, the bitterness of leaving sinks to the taste.
But most of all, i hate the the idea of parting, the idea of saying goodbye.
No matter how near or how far I may go, just knowing that I’ll be away from your grasp is painful enough.
I hate waking up on that day. The surrealness of it. To know that in a mere 24 hours, this won’t be home anymore. My last day on that bed. My last day with those people. My last day on that ground. My last day breathing this air, until well… god knows when.
I hate seeing you. I love you so much, but seeing your dead eyes, and seeing how your inner pain is so great that it’s affecting you physically, affects me too. I hate seeing you struggle to be strong, even though the pain is evident.
I hate hearing the plans for our trip.
The bags and boxes that served as my storage unit and dumping grounds, all neatly packed up, just like the day we landed. The only tie I have to the place that serves as my “home”. Really, “home” to me is a home away from my real home.
I hate the feeling of guilt, knowing YOU are the one who’s leaving a hole behind. That though it’s hard, it’s always being left behind that hurts more.
The voices and extra noise that I made. The late night guitar playing or the early morning screaming. In 24 hours, gone.
All of it parts on a metal tube in the sky. Planes….
I hate that "back to normal" feeling, that lack of presence that we leave behind. I hurt them, even though I don’t want to.
Then there’s the ride going to the airport
Please, come with me. I need you here. Just a few more minutes. Just another second. Anything.
Every little inch closer to the airport, I have to look out the window, act like I can’t see your eyes through the reflection. Act like I don’t know what you want to say. Act like I’m just giving this place “one final look”. Holding back the tears.
Mess up my ticket. Burn the plane. Pop the tires. I don’t want to go.
I wish I didn’t know these streets, but I do. I know the ride. I know the locations. I can tell we’re getting closer.
I know you don’t want to be here. But please stay with me.
I want to know how much time we have together until I have to leave.
i can already imagine, during that ride back...
The black stain of absence that I left. The emptiness of everything, and the pain you’re facing.
I wonder why you seem like you can barely move. Like you’re wearing shoes made of -
Oh.
It’s the weight.
I’m sorry.
I look back at the spot on the bed that I used to take up.
I hate taking these photographs.
The smiles I give are always fake, and I know yours is too. We pretend, because at the end of the day, there is no happy family. Not today. Not while we have to separate.
Please don't capture this moment.
Please give me a hug.
Don’t let go. A part of me prays something inside you goes berserk, like in those supernatural movies
That maybe you’re keeping some sort of secret power or trump card that you’re waiting to use.
That maybe you might grow wings and take me away from here so we miss the flight.
That maybe you just whisper “run” and for some strange reason, we just run away, buying even just a few moments. A few fleeting moments.
It'll be awhile before i get another one of your hugs, so please, hold me like it’s your last because god forbid if I die on that plane I’ll never get to hug you again so please.
Even though you’ll feel empty after, please. It’s so selfish but god, do it for me.
Thing is, I know deep in my heart I’m not the only one feeling this sadness
Right and left there are goodbyes
There are couples who are a few goodbyes away from a long distance relationship
There is a kid who is clinging to her dad's leg telling me to stay or take her along because he's working abroad
There are people sharing words to family members who live far away
There's so many people feeling the same, but... it doesn’t take away from the pain.
“Have a safe trip!”
I want to die.
“Call us when you’re home!”
I am home.
“Don’t cry”
You’re lucky you can’t see into my soul, because I’m not crying. I'm bleeding.
“Come back soon!”
I don’t need to leave.
“Bye”
I don’t want to go
"Bye"
Don’t push me away
"Bye"
Why did you make me leave this place.
"Bye"
I don’t want to go…

bye.

I hate airports
Laura Enright Jan 2017
These double doors are my eyes that see into peoples' lives
the end of a neon bright hallway, surgically clean
a lone traveller drags her life by the handle
here at an obscure hour while others sleep

I wonder if it's necessary that she leave?
She seems so removed from the furrowed brow
ticking watch business-man beside her
Watch the time. A missed flight. The world unfamiliar.

The agitated jitter of a lady puzzles me,
why does she cry? what is she leaving behind?
where will she go?
the airport departure lounge
purgatory
for a travelling soul.
A poem written from a prompt from class to write a 'persona poem'.
Liam C Calhoun Oct 2016
Salient pools swarmed upon
Seas
Of blackened
Amber,
Reflected
Neon gazes,
And
The love that could never be.

She knew it.

I knew it.

Hell, Even my luggage knew it.

All that remained were the footsteps
And in opposite directions.
Francie Lynch Apr 2016
We were misplaced and confused,
So, I bought a coffee, sat with a magazine,
But felt so antsy, I went to the Kiosk,
Inquiring about your flight,
Then went looking in the other places.
So many people started looking like you:
Their hair, shape and walk.
So many doppelgangers.
It was getting way too late, hours, in fact.
Now concern settles in,
But seconds make the difference,
Not some butterfly in China.
If I'd lingered, sipping,
I wouldn't have walked right into your tears
Around the corner.
I happened to have a tissue in my pocket
To dry your found eyes;
Now let's get the **** outa here!
allyson Feb 2016
you tell me i'm the first person you ever really loved
we lie in bed and you stroke my hair
as if it's something i live for you to do
after our drunken bodies intertwined on the couch to American Beauty
tears of frustration from my paper eyelids
why can't i control my outbursts
why am i so sad
why can't i find anything to make me happy
you sit across the room and refold my green blouse for the 13th time and gaze at my suitcase
i realize you could never comfort me again
turning away because i can't bare to look at your face
you're sorry you lied and you thought it would be better if i didn't know and now we're in a sauna in italy
two bottles of wine down
and i can't tell if this is passion or desperation
passionate desperation
it was the last time your lips kissed my neck and i think back on my mistakes and i crush them up and i snort them
there is an ocean between us and theres no reason you wouldn't think that she's prettier
i always made fun of you for liking the front bottoms
i push your hand off of my thigh as i sob into my plate at breakfast
i cry in the airport when the lady from customs asks me about my trip
i cry harder when she says she hopes i can visit you again soon
we embrace for the very last time
i tell you to never speak to me again
you don't
you never looked back as i pulled my suitcase through security
i wish you had
i'm really sorry about the front bottoms
Alisha Vabba Oct 2015
And I wear my special glasses
On this fortress by the sea
A broken sax and both of you,
No one sees things like we see!

By the river in Boston
Where the little white boats
Are like stars in the blue,
No one feels like I do.

On the rooftop where we kissed
And made movies of our lives,
All the silly things I miss,
No one knows like you and I.

And I wear my special glasses
When I wonder by myself
Through the fields and through the trees,
As I hide behind these leaves.

On the cliff behind the island,
All alone, while the violence
In the world breaks into waves
And I swirl within its blues.

When my lids are heavy
With departures and arrivals
And I feel the frenzied blood,
As it pulses through the terminals.

And I wear my special glasses
When I think and sip my tea
When I smile at all of you,
Or swim naked in the sea.

And I slide through many faces,
Through the laughter and embraces
I feel colourful and free,
All these eyes, they dance with me.

And I tingle as my skin and mind
Are drenched in eau de glee
I am golden, I am wild,
Warm as honey to these bees.

There is only song and colour,
Silly details make me smile
This confusion is perfection
And it all makes life worthwhile.

And we do not need the music,
We can hum and we can write
I can hear things through my eyes
As I’m gripped in life’s big bite!


Cheers to my friends Meg, Elle and the broken sax.
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