."My regrets look just like texts I shouldn't send."

My heart leaps at the connection of lyrics. My depression formulates.
Reality hits me all at once.

"I got neighbours, they're more like strangers; we could be friends."

I look deeply into myself. I'm aware that I'm hidden beneath a façade. Could they ever accept the real me? Would they still fancy me?

"I just need a way out of my head. I'll do anything for a way out of my head."

Forever hidden, my emotions remain. This melody brings my subconscious to the surface. My persona preventing the reality and potential felicitations;

My thoughts scatter.

Am I still worthy of their affections?

Don’t know how it started,
or if it’ll ever end,
some call it Samsara,
others call it trends,

watched a video on YouTube,
Mac Miller in bed with Ariana Grande,
Mac died last week from an OD/suicide,
after Ariana got engaged to another man,

then I Googled this,
“**** photos of Ariana Grande”,
what’s the matter with me why does everything lead,
to having my thing in my hand,

swear to God YouTube is the Devil,
got me to watch screens,
used to have more freedom,
because I didn’t own a TV,

but laptops just made it all too easy,
now I barely go out,
and when I do it’s usually just for food,
then it’s back to my bed or my couch,

laid up like I’m ill,
typing on my MacBook like an addict,
I mean how do you think I wrote this poem,
I wrote it by typing on my MacBook like an addict,

and I don’t know how it started,
or if it’ll ever end,
some call it Samsara,
others call it trends…

∆ LaLux ∆

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.
∆

If you found me,
If you found me you would let me go.
If you knew me,
If you knew me you wouldn't.
If you passed me
If you passed me You'd avoid my eyes.
If you loved me
If you loved You'd say goodbye.
If you saw me,
If you saw You would realize it.
But if only you knew,
But if only you knew.

Mac Miller’s death wasn’t an Overdose,
it was a Suicide,
it was the path that he chose that’s the way it goes,
when you’re chewed inside,

when you’ve got those demons,
and even beautiful music doesn’t exercise them,
we all gotta go sooner or later,
so Mac at 26 is tragic but not surprising,

wish he’d held out for one more year,
then he could’ve gotten in the Forever 27 Club,
joined the likes of Hendrix Morrison and Joplin,
but anyways whatever it’s still all love,

even though,
it hurts so bad,
especially since I’m writing this,
to Mac’s Swimming soundtrack,

13 songs on Mac’s last album,
and the last track’s ‘So It Goes’,
and ‘So It Goes’,
is playing on a record in Mac’s final post,

one moment we’re living one moment we get ghost,
and that makes me think of Jaden,
who’s last track was Ghost,
oh God Jaden no don’t start fadin’,

you’re it man,
you’re the one,
please push past the darkness of the pain,
and shine like the All Seeing Sun,

you’re our last hope like Obi-Wan Kenobi,
so don’t shut your eyes Young Jedi,
you’ve got the torch now so let it burn bright,
because the only thing that doesn’t wait is time,

time doesn’t give a fck about clocks,
until they stop,
she puts me together when I’m out of order,
perfect,

gives me the shivers how the Lord deliver’s,
and I don’t even read psalms,
but I swear to God it was all written,
that’s why even in the chaos I’m calm,

nothing’s GO:OD in the AM,
when you’re not feeling The Divine Feminine,
nauseous everyone feels toxic and obnoxious,
you're conscious that the poison feels like medicine,

resurrected just to be dead again,

it’s scary or rather haunting how Mac’s last video,
show’d him trapped in a coffin,
with a message that read Memento Mori,
you might win some but you just lost one,

shout out to Lauryn Hill,
she lost her mind but didn’t lose her life,
see no matter how difficult things get,
you win no matter what as long as you stay alive,

and it hurts so bad that we lost him,
that even I right now feel dead inside,
better take care out there and beware,
Self Care's only effective with friends to stand by,

**** I,
want to find a way to make everything alright,
want to find a way to bring back Mac,
gone forever to that Castle in The Sky,

and I just wish I could’ve said one last word to him,
and it hurts so bad I want to cry,
see Mac Miller’s death wasn’t an Overdose,
it was a Suicide,

so if you’re feeling hurt and depressed,
find someone to get that ****t off your chest,
because you’re loved whether you know it or not,
and life’s to short for long stories or regrets,

life’s too short for long stories,
life’s too real for fake friends,
so know that I love you you can always come see me,
because it’s peace love and respect till the end,

and ****,
we lost a good one today my oh my,
Mac Miller’s death wasn’t an Overdose,
it was a Suicide,

RIP Mac Miller,
may you Rest In Peace on Cloud 9,
may you finally find that love you need,
at that Eternal House in The Sky….

∆ Aaron LaLux ∆

I remember the night you sang Objects in the Mirror to me on the phone. 



I never thought that it would feel this way.

You never taught me how to heal the pain.

I wish you caught me on a different day, when it was easier to be happy.

I kinda find it strange, how the times have changed.

*

I remember how we used to talk about love, like it was an institutionalized little child, drug down from what glory it used to hold; how it used to transcend time and knowledge and beauty and all other emotion.



Someone like you is so hard to find.

I remember that you thought I was put together perfectly. I still don’t understand how you ever reached that end of the spectrum, completely opposite my own view. I still don’t understand how everyone around me sees someone that I don’t see when I look in the mirror. I’m anti-altruistic and unintelligent and completely guilt ridden and not at all beautiful.


All I ask is don’t you worry, I won’t hurt you, don’t you worry.



I remembered how much stock I put in you. I remember how you promised you wouldn’t hurt me, because you had been put through the same wringer as I. I remember how you just unattached yourself one day, on the bias that it was my fault. You stranded me. Probably for another, prettier, girl. 



Listen to me I will set you free,

He ain’t gonna break your heart again.



And I could never figured out what that particular line meant in the scheme of things, but I realize now, as you’re trying to drift back into my life with the drive of a listless breeze, you were setting me up for the next heartbreak. 
After all, all my life really is, is a string of heartbreak.



Go through the worst to reach the ecstasy.

Wish we could go and be free, once baby you and me,

We could change the world forever, and never come back again.


 
I remember the feeling that bloomed in my heart when I realized someone like you cared about someone like me. That someone like you wanted to fix someone like me. Then I reached the conclusion that depression and mental illness isn’t attractive. That you were drawn to the prettier parts of me that resembled tarnished silver, in the hopes that you would have time to break in your silver polish in the spare time and privacy of your awful little home town.



You don’t havta cry. 

And mend a broken hearted girl if you can, I don’t expect you to be capable. 

You have the world right in your hands, your responsibility is unescapable.



I realized that boys don’t like sad girls, but you could see what I could be. I thought you wanted to help me and fix me, but eventually shouldering a burden that isn’t your own gets too heavy to carry. It gets heavier and heavier through the crying, sleepless nights that you would guide me through with your lantern, which became duller each time I needed saving.



Don’t even say you’re about to end it all,

Your life is precious ain’t no need to go and **** yourself. 


Then you left.

On my watch.

On my fault.

On something that wasn’t really my fault.



I promise that I’ll be a different man,

Give me the chance to go and live again.



But here you are with nonchalance and no apologies for the tears wasted on you. 

There may be another boy toying with my broken pieces, fitting me together because he can see the beauty you saw. 

But here you are pretending you still care and still find me beautiful.

There may be beauty in this other boy who helps me, who is just as broken as me, another boy who shares my pain in what I’ve never gotten.

But here you are rehashing memories of nights spent crying over a song.



You don’t have to cry.

Let’s leave it all in the rearview.



But here I am, telling you that broken girls give second chances.



Let’s leave it all in the rearview.

But here I am, telling you that I’m halfway mended.



Let’s leave it all in the rearview.



But here I am, telling you that for me, once you’ve left you cannot re-enter.



Leave it all in the rearview.