Jack 8h

Another night spent drowning, downing fuel for apathy,
Trying to forget all the great things we planned to be,
She was listing off my scars, stacking them up like cords of wood,
But it was the loneliness that burned me more than any fire could,
She said that she was homesick, I told her I was sick of home,
Sifting through these ashes of cigarettes and Styrofoam,
So this is where we stand, stranded here amongst the weeds,
Fighting for the place everyone seeks but no one needs,
I was choking on fresh air, collecting wrongs to put things right,
Drinking in despair under some desperate shade of light,
And maybe I took it on the nose, but baby I took it all to heart,
She said “tell me how it ends,” and I said “tell me where to start,”
I’ve been climbing up the walls, so tired of sleeping on the floor,
Still dependent on addictions that don’t need me anymore,
So come on let’s make a change, come on it’s time to move,
We’ve got a thousand dollars and a million prayers to prove,
And I know it’s never easy to see the battle through the war,
They’ll never build us statues, but we’re still worth fighting for,
In time, we may miss the safety of our backs against the wall,
But if we don’t run right now, we might never move at all.

A million miles may pass between
The place I sit and the place I dream.
My heart calls out; its hears no answer,
all tangled up in the twirls of the dancer.
And then when she sings, no ear can deny
Those heavenly chords, tears of joy in her eye.

Yes a million miles may pass between
You and I while I steep in my dreams
So that when I awake, alone in my bed,
At least I can still hear your voice in my head.

you're scared.
because you've always lived
in a fantasy you made up
inside your head;

too scared to step out
and walk in your glass slipper;
too scared to go bare feet
on broken glass.

you were Cinderella
in your daydreams.
you thought and you hoped
that real life worked like fairy tales.

you stayed inside your carriage
and you dreamt.
but could you fly on the backs
of those wingless dreams?

no, not when midnight came
and they began to vanish;
not when your carriage disappeared;
your world.

then, struck by darkness,
you plunged into life's abyss,
and your glass slipper shattered;
your heart.

All those fairy tales are full of it.

iridescent
luminescent
reminiscent
of childhood dreams
looks like
blinking lights
shooting stars in the night
when the lights
were cut off from nonpayment
sounds like
cellophane
on a cigarette pack
like
firefly wings scratching their backs
feels like
old butterscotch from grandma's purse
listening to the neighbors
fight and curse
running from bullies
thinkin, "Surely, my heart gone burst!"
taste like
cotton candy
a stolen sip of brandy
while your parents recuperate from the night before...
the night
filled with lights
and promises
and dreams

As the line between our private lives,
& the public eye blurs,
all the old paradigms dissolve,
& nothing becomes as it was before,

only a few months more,
to get this riddle solved,
feeling like The Batman The Joker,
& Lois Lane all rolled in one,

my new name is Nigiri,
on a roll hot like wasabi,
my threads are all designer,
& my hobbies are all hobbies,

I am definitely not sure at all,
well at least definitely not probably,

babbling’ with talking heads,
while jousting with the walking dead,
because we’re up right now up right now,
that's right the life of the party,

& you all probably already know all this,
because the whole time was Live recording,
Instagram Live Streaming all the time,
I'm dreaming at the same time touring,

every moment recorded,
even when it's not at all important,
off script but don't trip,
because we're still part of the program,

so before I even wake up,
you already know the whole thing,
you already know what happened,
the night before the morning,

the Knight Before The Mourning,

sounds a bit prolific & prophetic,
at least a little bit don’t you think,
but what’s it matter the least little bit, if no one takes the time to think,

they’re just getting their nails done,
in the salon in the bottom of the boat,
as it sinks & we just think,
“Well I hope at least the lifeboat floats”,

in a bit of a panic,
like Leo in the Titanic,
searching for my romantic Winslet,
before we both sink in this disaster,

see I see you drowning in this sea,
& I still love you even after everything,
so I swim over & my hand I outreach,
hoping you'll grab hold before you sink,
so I can backstroke with you on my back,
& swim us both to an island beach,

specifically Leo's island,
you know the one Blackadore Caye,
he actually asked me to run the island,
said it was just a bunch of palm trees,

& I know this is reality,
even though it all feels like a dream,
so I close my eyes pray for better times,
then open my eyes to focus & blink,

blink,

blink,

blink,

blink,

the camera is always on,
the recording is always running,
this is layer cake no this is pound cake,
no this is the first ring around the onion,

onions in the sink,
got my eyes running made me think,
turned the water off got a wash cloth,
then took a moment to blink,

blink,

blink,

blink,

blink,

as the line between our private lives,
& the public eye blurs,
all the old paradigms dissolve,
& nothing becomes as it was before,

only a few months more,
to get this riddle solved,
feeling like The Batman The Joker,
& Lois Lane all rolled in one,

∆ LaLux ∆

from The Sydney Sessions
the follow up from multiple # best selling author Aaron Lux
new book available for FREE here: https://www.scribd.com/document/367036005/The-Sydney-Sessions-12-Steps

Book FREE here: https://www.scribd.com/document/367036005/The-Sydney-Sessions-12-Steps
Amber C 3d

it’s a dream, too good to be true; i comb her hair with my fingers
i bid my eyes to stay shut and in my ear i hear nothing but her whispers
confused but content, i sigh into her bare shoulder
and find myself carried away into the deepest kind of slumber

she is here—my love—and her love borders on tangible
the dips and bumps of her body under my fingers: palpable
she pushes but she doesn’t shove, she pulls but she isn’t careless
yet her gaze and her words, they are everything but selfless

i count the stars til i run out, then i trace with a finger the freckles on her face
in her sleep—not mine, i checked—she is nothing but softness and grace
her heartbeat against mine might be too good to be true
but this is not a dream and my reality is, "you"

i remember how you hated arithmetic;
the nights spent huddled over assignments,
and in the midst of sleep groaning about numbers i never understood,
i'd like to count how long it would take for you to drift off.
i remember that you have ten fingers,
all of which have once touched me on wintery nights,
all of which have traced down the 65 inches of my body,
and you have two eyes,
the blue that ogled every part of me while in the shower.
and i used to love numbers,
because i could count each time i fall in love with you,
over and over again.
i remember how you'd mumble formulas in your sleep,
and i'd count each breath you'd take,
smiling to myself multiple times in the dark.
and i remember spending the 391 days without you in my life,
and it makes me hate numbers, too.

When you are born,
They label you
But then as you grow older,
You are told not to label other people
“But then why am I a girl?”
Your parents ask what you mean
“The doctors gave me a label when I was born
Right?”
They tell you that you are correct and say “So what?”
“So...That means that I can be a boy right?”
They tell you no

When you get into high school,
The boys will look at your ass or your legs
And start to whistle or tell their other guy friends about you
So you start to wear baggier pants and longer shirts
They stop looking at you
And stop pointing and telling their friends
Now?
Well, now they just laugh
At your baggy pants, and your overly large T-Shirts

When you get into college,
You cry every night because they call you
She, Miss, girl, and everything else inbetween
You cry every night
Wishing
No no no
Hoping that they will wake up and call you
He, Mr. boy, and everything else inbetween

One night you sit in your college dorm,
Your roommate leaving in a short skirt
With a boy that she really likes
And you are just sitting on your bed studying
For that huge test the next day
But you can not
Something is bugging you

You go into the bathroom with the scissors
You think of your old childhood memories,
High school boys and their catcalling,
And now
The very thing that is making you do this

Cutting your hair

You go to class the next day and the professor stops you at the door
“Excuse me sir. Do I know you?”
Yes.
You say
You do. You are the professor who called me she
And everything else inbetween
I would like you to call me something different
The rest of your classmates see this and freak out
“What have you done to your hair?!”
“It was so pretty before.”
You simply tell them that you got tired of it getting in the way

You jump back to the present,
Your kids running up to you,
“Daddy! Daddy, come play with us.”
Your husband walks up and kisses you
With mud filling your mouth
Ew.
You exclaim
What is this? Mud?
You kids.
You laugh and join your family outside
The family that will love and accept you  to the very end
Because they were the ones who helped you with everything
And now feel happy
Finally after all of these years of hiding
And trying to be yourself have paid off

And thus,
Living happily ever after

Malak S 5d

It’s 6 am and it still feels like a dream.
You stir next to me and I have to hold myself back for I’m pulling you closer and devouring every inch of you. Sometimes God takes one thing and offers you a whole lot more, and thankfully, I got that with you.
I turn to my side and gaze at your still body; chest rising and falling; peacefulness in human form.
My fingertips caress your skin and my lips trace their way to your neck, chest... you stir a bit more and I hold myself back. Your eyes open up and stare in surprise. You close your eyes and I count to ten. We’re both so afraid of waking up to different realities and we don’t want to pretend, so we take a few seconds to make sure this is real, all of it, you and me, the bed, the sheets.
1,2,3
It’s not a dream
4,5,6
You’re real
7,8,9
I’m lost in your eyes
10
Whatever self control I was tying to gain disappears and we’re tangled in the sheets, so afraid the spell breaks, we practically lose sight, of all that was once real, and for all that has yet to come.

You go back to sleep and I write this piece, hoping that when one day, very far from now, we part ways, I can read these and cherish the way, you made me feel when all I wanted was to evaporate.

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