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Ashlee Reyes Mar 31
i can feel my hear beat
for you
drugs have gotten the best of me

laying in bed with you
is as lonely as my nights alone

its borderline
if not pathetic
how many times i pick up the phone

they say 'no answer is an answer'

but it isn't fair
your're so emotionless
so maybe
i'm not that hard to miss

there's a line in a song
that says
"broken hearts are made for two"
and it kinda reminded me of
me and you

i wonder if you
remember things
as vividly as i do

funny that it's always been
all about you from the start
i would've never responded
if I knew **** would get
this far gone
so far gone

cause i remember lying on your chest
listening to the rhythm of your heart,
but you'd never notice that – 

and that's what will always set us
apart
1/2/2021
Justin Lai Dec 2020
squelched between bodies spiralling into escalators,
my trained eye couldn't help hovering a little left

right there, coming into view at the watch store,
though never caught dead anywhere near M·A·C

but neither should my stares, blatant without restraint,
fixed on a trio chattering like keys jangling

to the beat of a million other stolen glances,
only for them to slip away for some froyo.

rather than melt into a fruity confection myself,
I steel my eyes back into the spiralling masses

blocking out three gym bags marked 'WATER POLO',
my untrained heart pulses still for their suntan

and the bleachers of yesterday, the sight and sweat,
jocks jangling for position in glistening waters —

only then did I dare scream my lungs out,
safe in the crowds of a high school roar.
the bj stands for bugis junction, it's a local shopping mall okay xD
Brandon May 2019
Set I
You know that people will change
As feelings start to fade away
Lovers seem to drift astray
Chemistry is so strange
Friends swords are double-edged
Never thought a bond could be staged
Even if the Sun failed to stay
You need to know that I'm on a wave
I wish I was everywhere and hard to find
You want a man; I'm one of a kind
Around you, I'm so unprepared
I catch myself sounding what's not shared
Starting a new chapter composes fear
I'm still where I was last year
Meanwhile, we're talking it out
And you sustain my attention throughout
I walk you back to your haven
We stagger to be on our way without saying
Seems like you want me to linger
I hope you can endure a cruel winter
MJL Mar 2019
Nick was a lost boy
With a whispering heart
He held proper Victorian sadness
Until his public strength bowed
As it does with the artistic type
His soul beating modal
And his mask of gilded paper mache
With glue dripping and drying to fragile dreams
He needed to get back to the pastures of Tanworth
Yet London had other ideas
And his stiff upper lip cracked
He was a poet, you see
Who danced with trees...
And everyone knows
Butterflies don't ride bikes
Though that would be beautiful
To see one on a banana seat
Sailing down a country lane...
Alas, butterflies can simply fly away if a bike objects
And feel no pain
But Nick was hurt as he fell to the ground
His sickly hunched posture told of a great weight
Shoulders struggled to shepherd the world
With only Flower his power
And Pen his staff
Sadness met the River Man
And the River Man broke down
Poor, the fame of falling poets
Rich, the earth’s garden of toiled words
Caked under soiled writers nails
A headstone,
"Now we rise
And we are everywhere"
His tailwind to us
Go and look at what our fellow poets eyes do see
And bid hello to another artist’s soul on parade
For, as with you, they too are simply lost
And desperate for a garden to share and grow


© 2019 MJL
For Nick Drake, and to poets everywhere. Thanks for sharing. Thanks for your rich souls. London here represents what the world wants us to be. Butterflies, the crack from reality.... May we all meet the River Man on our own terms, with a smile, on route to our own pastures of Tanworth.
Aaron LaLux Sep 2018
Backstage Drake show,
don’t know how I got here,
heart beats *******,
feel every feeling except fear,

at Drake’s last show,
of The Boy Meets World Tour,
backstage without a backstage pass,
how the heck did I get here?

Life so blessed,
there’s no need for a backstage pass,
always All Access,
no matter where on this atlas,

facts facts facts,

everybody misbehaving,
no one knows how to act,
on our worst behavior,
wish we could bring **** Back,

actually,
can barely believe we exist,
and all of the quotes I wrote,
are starting to sound like a To Do List,

my God what type of life is this,

in first place,
which wasn’t supposed to happen in the first place,
how the Hell did I end up,
backstage at a show hosted by Drake,

how’d I get picked for first place VIP,
when I wasn’t even close to being a First Round Draft Pick,
how can I live a life so viciously victorious,
at the same time terribly tragic,

I don’t know,
just know it all happened like magic,
like that’s it,
like going from being an anonymous to an A-List actress,

beats bumping heart pumping,
sold my heart but kept my soul intact,
and if want a seat at the table,
all you have to do is ask,

go ahead,
let’s make this a conversation
but if you run your mouth too long,
I might start running out of patience,

and then you’ll lose your chance and your placement,
just saying,

just finished another world tour,
Boy Meets World 2017,
on this wild ride like a rodeo with OVO,
only one word to describe this and that’s “Amazing.”,

backstage Drake show,
don’t know how I got here,
heart beats *******,
feel everything except fear,

at Drake’s last show,
of The Boy Meets World Tour,
backstage without a backstage pass,
how the heck did I get here?…

∆ Aaron LaLux ∆

new book HERE: www.amazon.com/dp/1721134158
Or message me directly and I'll send it to you for FREE.

15 | Heartbreak in Hatfield

I took the bus from the CBD all the way to Hatfield just to free my mind and receive closure from you.
Let’s vibe out and listen to our favourite songs by Drake and reminisce about the love that we’ll never get back.
How long can I keep holding on when all this pain becomes a reflection of everything that’s bound to go wrong?
Was I not deserving of the kind of love and happiness that I had consistently given to you?
I yearn for a reality worth dreaming about, but lately my heart has been paralysed by doubt.
Time is expensive like a Richard Mille watch but every minute I spent with you was worth it.
When my blue skies fade to grey, I listen to songs by The Weeknd and reminisce about you every single day.
I took the bus from the CBD all the way to Hatfield just to free my mind and receive closure from you.
Now I spend my days listening to sad songs while reminiscing about the love that I’ll never get back.
These words are proof that I’m still recovering from the heartbreak I once felt a while ago in Hatfield.
emme m Jun 2018
why do i like the pain
it's all the same
repeating nights
repeating days
repeating kisses
and repeating shame
feel no ways
***** bottles and a song by drake
Aaron LaLux Nov 2017
Who cares who shot JFK I wanna know who shot Tupac,
who cares about the CIA's JFK Files release date,
it’s 2017 and I’m on a plane watching All Eyez On Me,
flying westbound outta the Westside of LA,
on All Hallow’s Eve and it’s all feeling kinda spooky,
because I’m on this plane with another Libra The Boy Drake,

and I don’t care who shot JFK,
I want to know who shot Tupac,
met Suge two times and got the feeling he didn’t,
plus when they hit Pac even Suge got two shots,

so who shot Tupac,
as I write with all I’ve got,
in red ink as my red eyes blink,
pen lines looking like blood drops,

all eyes on me,
until my eternal slumber,
but enough about the words,
what about the numbers,

75 million albums sold,
713 songs,
7 films that’s 777,
same as the title of the latest book I put out,

seems Tupac and I,
share a mutual obsession with the #7,
plus his last album Killuminati was subtitled 7 Day Theory,
not to mention the fact that Pac was shot on September 7th,

as I trace the early similarities,
between me and Tupac,
I think back to when I almost signed with Suge,
and I too feel like Tupac,

I too was raised in New York,
I too got put on in LA,
I too almost lost my soul in Vegas,
I too am both profane and a saint,
I too feel confused and conflicted,
I too both sin and pray,
I too write with a sense of urgency,
because I too know tomorrow isn’t promised today,

I too have found my street instincts to be risky,
I too have gotten it on at the Luxor,
I too know there’s a thin line,
between Love & Hate and between Enemies & Lovers,

trapped between over the top celebrities,
and detectives undercover,
and I’ll a pirate sailor sailing high,
but still I have to fight from going over,

oh Lord,
forgive me for I know not what I do,
and maybe the reason I feel guilty,
is because I waste my gifts on **** and *****,

choose,
your own adventure,

lost,
caught up in the trap that’s why they call it a trap,
winnin’ till when that window rolls down and you don’t know,
if it’s gonna be a gun shot or a camera snap,

I know what’s coming even though I don’t know when,

signing my own death certificate,
like Pac signing to Death Row,
see he thought he was just giving Suge his Music,
but really what he was giving him was his soul,

nobody know when they’re gonna go,
we’re at the table at the Last Supper till they pull our card,
which I guess is sickeningly befitting,
considering Tupac was shot in Vegas on Las Vegas Blvd.,

and all that’s left of him,
is this movie that I watch on this plane,
and what’s happened to our music,
lost Tupac and gained Drake,

and that’s not a shot at Drake,
I mean Drake’s cool,
I’m flying with him to Australia,
but Drake doesn’t have Tupac’s soul,

our music has been watered down,
now Hip Hop sounds like Pop Rock,
I mean how can you even compare,
Hotline Bling to Keep Your Head Up,

what the fck,

how’d we go from Black Panther,
to ***** cat,
how’d we go from I Ain’t Mad At Cha,
to Best I Ever Had,

and I’m not even mad,
I mean I respect Drake for sure,
he gets that money and has always been good to me,
but Drake is no Tupac that’s for sure,

but I won’t elaborate further because,
we all know what happens when you ask too many questions,
so I’ll just keep getting my money and writing my books,
& keep going to church without admitting confessions,

and I’m ending,
this poem right here with an RIP,
RIP to Tupac,
Rest In Peace,

another leader slain,
and I’m so caught up I forgot what I was saying,
even forgot where I was,
which is flying westbound on this plane,

writing verses in blood red ink,
feeling like Pac All Eyes on me,
wondering who shot Tupac pen lines like blood drops,
as I write what I think with all that I’ve got in ink,

ink as red as my red eyes that blink,
sending this poem off as a literary Hail Mary,
with California Love even those it’s Me Against the World,
Keep Your Head Up & congratulations Brenda’s Got A Baby,

and I know I’ll likely Live & Die in LA,
so I wonder if there’s a Heaven for a G,
& if there is Dear Mama I’ll meet you at **** Mansion,
& please know I Ain’t Mad At Cha but I’ve gotta go so peace…

∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆

30/10/17
I've never told anyone about this, but I've met Suge Knight several times and he was always cool with me. We flew to JFK airport in NYC & discussed a lot of things. I wasn't going to mention this but a combination of factors led me to coming out about it. 1st of all a photo of me and Suge popped up online, 2nd, the JFK papers were released last week, 3rd, I flew with Drake to New Zealand, and 4th, I watched All Eyez On Me on the flight... Which led me to writing the following poem. Please let me know your thoughts on this, or anything else related to Tupac, Suge Knight, JFK, Drake, or your boy Aaron La Lux... ∆
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