I tried on the dress I wore last prom

And I panicked

I didn’t even wash it after that night

For fear of it getting ruined

Fear 
Anxiety 
Nervousness
They’ve stained it

Not even Oxi-Clean could get those out


That dress was already tight as is

Black and suffocating
I was a wreck that night

Full of fear, anxiety, and nervousness


It spilt from my sweat-glands, I stained it
I tried on the shirt I wore in September

And I was hopeful


Of course I washed it after that evening

I bathed myself too
Hope 
Love
 Safety
They’ve stained it


Not even Clorox could get those out

That shirt was tight and revealing as is
Vulnerable and mustard yellow
I was happy that night


Full of hope, love, and safety 

It spilt from my sweat-glands, I stained it
With these two pieces of clothing
 on at once

Six stains are upon me

Fear, anxiety, nervousness, hope, love, safety

I fear that it could end, I hope that it will not

her: hi!
Me:
her: hello?
lightning can definitely strike twice

Lost in Lisbon,
just me and my addictions,
and when I say addictions,
I mostly mean my addiction to women,

caught in the same cliche,
but I can’t seem to get away,
like a dream that keeps repeating,
same place same case just a different day,

thinking that somehow *** can replace,
the actual act of acceptance,
thinking that regret can somehow set,
the pace for some sort of repentance,

but nothing changes,
except the weather and sometimes the faces,
found I’m still lost,
I’m a great shot but what’s the worth of a great shot that’s aimless?

No target,
no goals,
just a free market,
that’s completely uncontrolled.

There are no rules,
there’s no reality on which to base this face it,
we are all lost that is for sure,
only difference is most of us don’t want to admit it.

Addicted,
to the chaos it’s such a turn on,
even when I feel sick,
and my heart’s gone cold I’m still burnin’,

she’s turning,
her back on me,
says she doesn’t want to have ***,
and I understand her exactly,

sometimes I wish I wasn’t a man,
sometimes I wish we were all brilliant light,
want to leave my dull bland body so bad,
that if someone came to take my life I wouldn’t even fight.

I don’t fight her,
she says no so I sit up and ask her to leave,
it’s almost 4 o’clock in the afternoon already,
and she’s got a flight to catch that’s leaving for Italy,

and it is then that I see that she’s leaving me,
both figurative and literally,
which I guess I accept because one fact,
we all leave everyone and everything eventually,

even ourselves,
the cards we were dealt,
were bizarre as a guitar played like like a bagpipe by a Celt,
and even though we feel no more well hell at least there was a time we felt,

oh well,
I understand now that you’re timeless and your love is priceless,
fairwell,
we win some and we lose some I guess that’s what this Game of Life is,

blameless and shameless in Lisbon having a midlife crisis.

Living in cities of sin singing songs of wrong still trying to be righteous,
lost as a lark trying to parrot a song to carry us along and guide us,
flying through this civic blueprint climbing high we deny lies and define all aliveness,
and even though your iris is sublime and so is mine we can’t seem to see through our own blindness,
  
like trying to adjust to the distrust that we feel when we’re told that someone loves us,
and the ironic thing is that in your strangeness I see a similar likeness.

We lost us.

We lost us and our fondness for any sort of conscious conscience,
so now we’re in love with fervid thugs and hooligans that are heartless,
and when we’re asked why we’re in love with this life we say because we are artist,
which partially explains why I’m in Portugal in pain with a beauty that’s stunningly monstrous.

Lost in this,
constant concoction of consciousness,
lost in this,
city by the ocean caught in the North Atlantic drifts,

lost in Lisbon,
just me and my addictions,
and when I say addictions,
I mostly mean my addiction to women…

∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆

20/08/16

let's talk about curiosity.* let's talk about gas burners and sidewalk cracks and how there are french towns in canada where people who don't know each other greet each other with a kiss on each cheek. this is a collection of all the things you knew would hurt and then did them anyways but made sure i was looking. like all those kisses and trips to petco and looking at me from the drivers side-- don't take your eyes off the road, you'll end up like the rest of them did. let me tell you about how my favorite sounds include the following: crickets, gas burners lighting, coffee brewing, and you on the last train to god knows where but the train is coming soon. i can hear the trembling carts on the railway and i can hear you and your voice sounds like getting drunk off wine and witty jokes, sounds like the mantra of "temptation" but in the most subtle way as if i'd mistake it for something holy just to see if you'd notice, sounds like an epiphany i've waited too long to hear, sounds like every "let's talk about it" and "you look alluring" and "i just couldn't help myself" put into one. but mostly. this is what you're going to have to sit down for, because i won't repeat it. does perpetual comfort exist at your train seat? even when i'm not there? does she sit next to you? or is all the spilled tea pooling at my feet explanation enough?  i won't repeat it. not even to the sidewalk cracks or the broken compasses or the birds or the torn down bus seat behind ours or into your voicemail. i won't. especially not into your voicemail. *because here it is:

We walked around
We talked the whole time
Your smile made me nervous
Every time you messed with your hair it made my knees weak.
You're everything I look for
You said let's do this again
The weird part is
I haven't seen you in two years
And it felt like I saw you yesterday
You're blue eyes looking in my green eyes
When you would just look at me and listen
You would smile when I made a dumb joke
I want to see him again
The blonde haired and blue eyed boy

you thought i could be replaced
*thats ******* cute

hello new
first breath of air
your mama and papa
your loved ones there
a mini human so soft and smooth
just yesterday in my sister's womb
and today you're in this world
you can even cry
just about seven pounds
you came exactly on time
welcome to the human existance
you've come into a crazy world
I'll tell you stories of how it was
I'll be the one considered old
you will forever know me
as favorite aunt
I'll spoil you and teach you
how others cant
you will be the you'est you
full of confidence and personal views
so happy birthday
happy new

Preventing myself
From expressing concerns
Of whether or not you've eaten,
Sending a quadruple text
Explaining that I miss you and
That I hope you're okay,
And that I kind of want to send you
Funny pictures
And throw in an awkward picture of me
Hiding behind the cocoon of blankets
I've wrapped myself in.

Today was a bad day.
I can't wait to hear your voice,
But saying that--
Well, I've been told that's bad,
That's weird,
That's not quite correct to tell someone.

I hope we get to the point
That it's okay.
I'm sure you wouldn't mind
Hearing things like that,
I'm just scared you might.

It's awful that there have been people
Who have told me the exact opposite
Of the things you've said to me.
You care to hear what I have to say,
And you don't want to hear my apologies,
Not because you think they're guilt trips,
But because you think they're unnecessary.

I really want to hold your hand,
And listen to you speak or laugh,
Or even just breathe.
And I know that's insane,
I know that's weird,
But I've never felt this way before.

There aren't butterflies in my stomach,
But little sparks trying to start a fire in heart,
So that way when I see you,
I know I'm home.