What really is time?
If not enough for people,
Then what is time for?

Falling or flying?
Peoples falling in love.
Peoples flying in the name of love.
Landing after falling will get peoples broken in to pieces.
Landing after flying will get peoples goodbyes.
What the difference?
If hurt is all those two could give.

If you truly are a time traveler,
as I expect you are,
then can we please meet again,
after this life is over,

because we both know this one goes too fast,
and we both know good things never last,
and we both know that there are no guarantees,
that there is ever going to be a next time,

so tell me,
one thing that actually matters,
and don’t tell me Salsa,
because I already know you’re a dancer,

but it’s not your body I want to see move,
it’s your soul that I want to tango with,
and I know the unknown can be scary,
but there’s something alluring about the danger zone,

so let’s take it there,
let’s spin that globe and take that flight,
because even though we might be time travelers,
we still can not stop time,

and you can not control the future,
nor can you completely foresee it,
even if you get premonitions,
and the occasional hint,

here’s a hint,
I love you,
and I don’t mean that,
in the way you’re used to,

I’m in love with your soul,
and I could care less about your body,
I am not one of those men,
that thinks you’re just a feast for the eyes,

I see you,
I mean I really see you,
I see through all your pretensions,
and right to the real you,

“What is the real me?”,
I know that’s what you want to ask,
but how can I explain,
your infiniteness in a sentence,

see I see that disguise you wear,
that ‘**** Mystery Girl’ disguise,
but you leave hints who’s the true you,
so when you finally expose your soul I won’t be surprised,

you can’t fool me,
and I refuse to be distracted by those legs of yours,
and I accept all of you I just have one question,
if you are a time traveler can we meet again after this is all over?

∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆

i'm going to start a tally
of things i've done wrong
but i need you to tell me
what it is i'm doing
before i can know how
to change...

Where am I going?
Is it somewhere I've been?
Will I know when I get there?
Or am I at the end?

I'm frozen.
Standing in place,
my feet still on the cold concrete I once called home.
I can see the spinning wheel.
Constantly turning,
but never changing time.
Like a vortex without energy
or a lamp without light.
It's nothing,
just there.
It exists.
But,
do I?

It rises,
It sets.
Sometimes we long for the end of thy day,
So we can start fresh and anew.
Others, we wish that day could last forever,
Holding it in your grasp, and never letting it go.
The Sun
A funny concept.
We tell time by it,
by a star.
What *is time anyways?
What does everything mean on this earth?
Something that happens now,
Will be forgotten soon.
Twenty years from now,
Will I know I wrote this poem?
On September 27, 2016 at 11:20 p.m.?
I may not remember the exact words,
But I hope I'll remember the message.
The sun rises and it sets for a reason,
to give us a second chance,
a brand new day to be happy,
*to be free.

If our past we could rearrange
For better or worse would things change?
If our future we could foresee
Would it a curse or blessing be?
If all we have is the present
Should we not savour each moment?