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Aaron LaLux Mar 6
She cries during ***,

a set of collective regrets expressed,
see at least you still have some emotions left,
in a world that’s gone cold,
and most people stumble around like the walking dead,

no Norman Reedus or Andrew Lincoln though,
just an aborted fetus and a broken heart with no treatment,
at the bar with a babe drinking,
till I get assassinated at a theatre like Abe Lincoln,

feeling like I’m in a real life Soap Opera drama,
the way I get caught up in these women’s feelings,
one minute she’s laughing the next minute she’s crying,
she apologizes and I tell her she never has to apologize for her feelings,

at least she still feels things,
says she’s been ***** before,
so when I go rough with her she gets flashbacks,
and it’s hard to face facts that have happened before,

I tell her it’s okay,
I tell her she can tell me anything,
I tell her sometimes it helps to communicate,
but she clams up and doesn’t say anything,

so I get up and go to the shower,
to try and wash off the stress,
moments later she comes in and joins me,
somewhere between sedated and upset,

at a hotel somewhere in Tulsa,
a hotel that they call boutique,
but it feels haunted and a bit spooky,
the wind howls and the floors creak,

and it gives me the creeps,
because in a way this hotel feels like me,
all nice and hip and trendy on the outside,
but inside everything is not what it seems,

haunted from the drama of these girls that were abused,
that then decided to transfer that energy to me,
which I in a way deserved because I used to serve,
this sort of abuse out to girls that thought they were into me,

you get what you give which is exactly what karma is,
so now I’m trying to help heal the Collective Feminine,
from all the damage that’s been done,
by the Collective Masculine,

so go ahead,

smash your conflicts into me,
drown me in the ocean of the the tears of your traumas,
scream shout let it all out until there’s nothing to let go of,
I love you unconditionally continually no menopause or commas,

no mental pause or drama,

you are an incredible creation,
resilient and brilliant,
and I am hear to be a platform,
if you’re in distress I will be your outlet,

so you can vent the stress,
even if that means crying during ***,
and I will be here to hear everything you need to express,
a Living Light in this world of The Walking Dead,

so it’s okay if you cry during ***,

a set of collective regrets expressed,
see at least you still have some emotions left,
in a world that’s gone cold,
and most people stumble around like the walking dead,

no Norman Reedus or Andrew Lincoln though,
just an aborted fetus and a broken heart with no treatment,
at the bar with a babe drinking,
till I get assassinated at a theatre like Abe Lincoln…

∆ LaLux ∆

Tulsa, OK.
2019
Broadsky Feb 2
You leaned me back as we danced at 2am in my kitchen.
You held your head back, as my eyes held yours, and my hands held you. This medicine keeps me calm and breathing easy. The lighter and the glass pipe on my windowsill make me enjoy the freezing mornings, and you darling make music notes run through my veins, and they make me shake.
January 19, 2015
Broadsky Jan 31
Accepting the fact that this isn't love just appreciation honestly kills me. You say I'm your sunset, but I'm really just your breath when it's cold out.
October 30, 2014
Timur Shamatov Dec 2018
I couldn’t see the end, yet
We STILL tried like we were true
In unfinished LOVE you let me go
Cause within your heart, YOU felt that I would cheat on you.
Ran into my ex today...

When I finished this poem and was looking for what to name it... my friend pointed out the title, I didn’t even see it.
Invisible Girl Dec 2018
You broke my heart many times
And still the pieces won’t fit
You made me cry days and nights
You took something I’ll never get back
Why you ripped my heart I’ll never know
Maybe it’s in you DNA to ba an ***
I hope one day you make the right girl happy
It was not myself unfortunately
But if *** was all it took for you to leave
Goodbye
To the football player who used me
Aaron LaLux Oct 2018
Cut the wrist of a Vampire Unicorn,
and She bled glitter,
but what do you except,
when I’m the Black Sheep of the litter,

not a runt though,
no stunts bro,
just real life right now,
just a blatant looting with more in store,

like a city of broken dreams,
post natural disaster,
when every silenced person,
finally gets everything they ever asked for,

and or,
everything they ever thought they wanted,
and I think She might be The Devil,
but then again maybe She’s a Godsend,

because she feels like a blessing,
especially when she’s *******,
and she’s not a priest and I’m not on my knees,
but still to her all my sins I’m confessing,

it’s all lessons,

so what did I learn,
when I saw her spill herself all over me,
and I was left with nothing once the sun rose,
except the mess in my bed she left behind for me to clean,

I guess that’s what you get when you cut the wrist of a Vampire Unicorn,
and She bleeds glitter,
but what did you except,
when you’re the Black Sheep of the litter,

not a runt though,
no stunts bro,
just real life right now,
just a blatant looting with more in store…

∆ LaLux ∆
Armand-DeamoJC Sep 2018
Our love was meant to be eternal,
But our love
Was wishéd upon the sun
Bound together as the sun shines
Unbound forever as the sun sets
 
Our love was meant to be eternal,
But our love
Was not wishéd upon the moon
Bound together as the moon shines
Bound forever, for the moon sets not
Why this girl haunts my mind, I do not know. They say it takes at most 8 months to move past a breakup. It's been 6 months, and the only thing that changed is I stopped reminiscing and sulking.
Aaron LaLux Sep 2018
"Can we make love,
at least a couple more times,
before we never see each other again?”,

Her voice is soft,
sweet,
almost innocent,
and adds an aphro-ambiance,
to the incessant crash of the ocean waves in the background,

her pleading eyes,
intercept my retreating lies,
it can be so hard to argue with the truth.

I am all out of excuses,
as we lay ***** as the day we were born,
in this bed at this beachside bungalow in Baja,
clouds gathering outside for the coming post sunshine storm,

two tainted souls,
in a rare moment of purity,
as we lay there I can not lie here,
I can not tell her I will see her again,
I can not tell her everything will be okay,
I can not tell her I love her,
at least not in the same way,
as she loves me,
which of course is unconditionally,

we’ve just made love,
and as she’s mentioned,
possibly for the last time,
and though she wants to make love again and again,
until we both grow old,
wants and realities can compete in this existence,
and in this moment is where they both meet,

“Can we make love,
at least a couple more times,
before we never see each other again?”,

she asks me again,
shaking me from the depths of my thoughts,
she pulls my submarine from the dark depths,
and shakes me out to dry in the sunlight of her attention,
her question,
comes with a hint of offense,
honestly no offense was meant,
at least not from me,
it’s not that I was ignoring her in that moment,
at least not completely,

it’s just that it’s difficult for me to stay in the moment,
when the past keeps dragging me back,
and the future keeps pushing me forward,
and there’s a needy media monster that doesn’t want to be ignored,

where were,
we,
where have we gone,
and what has become,
of the innocence in which we were born?

We lay,
***** as the day we were born,
in this bed at this beachside bungalow in Baja,
clouds gathering outside for the coming post sunshine storm,

nothing covering our skin,
except a thin layer of post *** perspiration,
for even though the sun has already set,
the humid heat still sits there,
like the soon to be cloud covered moon,
that hangs lazily in the sky,
seeming neither amused nor moved by our human drama.

Her question,
is reasonable enough,
and she is,
beautiful enough,
so why,
when she asks,
“Can we make love,
at least a couple more times,
before we never see each other again?”,
can I not say yes?

Well,
for one,
I respect her too much to lie to her,
plus lying to such an honest question,
would seem so taboo,

reason number two,

they say,
we do not choose love,
they say,
love chooses us,
and I do not love her,
even though I may want to,
I do not love her,
because she is not the one Love had decided to choose,

I do not love her,
as amazing as she is,
even if I should love her,
for she is everything a mortal man could ask for,
she is,
a gorgeous and successful model,
with a sharp and receptive mind,
a big heart,
and maybe most importantly,
an undying devotional love for me,
so logically,
I should love her,

but love is not logical,
love is as passionate and irrational,
as the weather here in Baja,
one moment shining bright with clear skies,
the next moment dark and ominous with gathering clouds,

so when she asks me,
“Can we make love,
at least a couple more times,
before we never see each other again?”,

I simply say nothing,
for what can I say,
how can I explain the irrational,
how can I say the one word,
that will break her heart open,
then watch that heart break right in front of me,
how can I say “No”,
to the one question,
that the girl that has said “Yes”,
to my every question,
asks me?

So I say nothing,
I simply open this writing book,
as these skies open above us,
and write down these thoughts upon these pages,
as the desert rains fall down upon us,

I write this poem,
as we lay ***** as the day we were born,
in this bed at this beachside bungalow in Baja,
as the incessant crash of the ocean waves in the background,
adds to the aphro-ambiance,
of this bittersweet moment in time,
so that even when I am gone,
and she is gone,
and we are gone,
these words,
from these thoughts,
will live forever,
immortalized in this verse,
forever resting,
somewhere in the collective psyche,
of our unified broken hearts,

as we lay there,
as we mutually mourn,
all that has been loved,
and all that has been lost,
in this impermanent moment called Life,

and she asks,
"Can we make love,
at least a couple more times,
before we never see each other again?”,

∆ Aaron LaLux ∆
My new book (Was a best seller) is now available FREE here: www.scribd.com/document/388173677/The-Holy-Trilogy-Volume-2-Mandalas
Trixia Aug 2017
how to get over thee,
how do i stop from thinking of you,
how do i stop remembering our happy moments,
that i still can't get over,
of how you gave me butterflies in my stomach,
you talk like you're from another time,
and yet you're here staying on my present,
and hopefully on my future,
how do i get over my addiction of your
smiles,
laughs
beautiful eyes,
or even your scent of perfume
how do i distance myself from what keeps me alive,
and also kills me twice,
truth is i still hide my pain,
in my empty smiles,
but the eyes show how i really am,
but no one sees,
you are the one who saw me,
in my darkest and brightest times,
you accepted me,
and told me you'll never leave,
but times after times,
i see you and you smile at me,
and your smiles are different,
they weren't as shiny as before,
they were faded,
they show me sorrow.
it feels like crashing,
crashing inside a volcano,
and burning, burning...
until i feel nothing,
i feel nothing,
because
i've died a million times,
from **** woken up to earth,
i do not know what to do,
or what to expect,
i still see you in my nightmares,
i call it nightmares because even if i saw happy moments it still gives me anxiety,
it still gives me so much phobia,
that the thought of being hurt,
again,
and again,
and again,
and again,
gives me so much heartache,
but i still open my heart,
to you,
because how do i get over thee.
how do you get over to someone that picked up your shattered heart from a broken past.
Anastasia Feb 2017
It's been a year
Since you broke me
The first time.
Yet, your expresso eyes
Are still the only ones I
Want
To see past the fog of
mine.

I wish I could hate you
Oh how simple that would be
But I can't
When the only thing you didn't do
Right
Was love me the way
I love you.
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