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#reallove
If he couldn’t do the small things, how could he do the big things? Silently, I begged for your eyes every night, but you chose the blue light. I will not beg for softness anymore. Love puts in the work after the spark, chosen in ordinary moments. Passion that does not leave confusion on the nervous system. Love should not make me abandon myself to keep it. Instead, he would hold me tight until my tears stopped, he would tell me “we have all night to figure this out.” His presence would pull me out of my head into his arms, and my mind goes quiet. He would challenge me to live, be bold, stand out, be wild. Trust would fuel the chemistry because he would sway me even before the night. His eyes, touch, hands, reaping of desire to be close, not taking, but staying. His patience, curiosity, effort, so **** raw, because he is vulnerable. He teaches me to relearn love, because this love is here to stay never to shrink or abandon myself for ego. In the grief, he stays, firm, capable, he reassures “I am not going anywhere.” He throws out “I’m sorry” easily, so sure, worries disappear, his voice comforts. Calm body, my mind is clear, he is direct, built on mutuality and respect. He gave, I took, he took, I gave. My safety, my love. And nothing in me wonders if he will choose himself at the cost of us. Not even suddenly, because love deserves a voice before a goodbye.
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5d ago
May 29, 2026 at 1:43 AM UTC
"I am not going anywhere."
I stood by the ocean once, back against a cold wall, and for a second I couldn’t tell which one I was. The ocean kept throwing itself forward. Loud. Messy. Unashamed. Like it didn’t care how many times it had to break to be heard. The wall just stood there. Quiet. Taking hit after hit like it signed up for it. I used to think I was the ocean. All emotion. All reaction. Crashing into everything that didn’t understand me. But some nights I feel more like the wall. Still on the outside. Hollow on the inside. Smiling like nothing is chipping away. Water is patient. It doesn’t argue. It doesn’t need the last word. It just comes back. That’s what thoughts do. That’s what regret does. They don’t scream. They return. Little by little they carve something out of you until you knock on your own chest and it sounds different. Empty in places. Echoing. The crazy part is the wall never notices the moment it starts becoming hollow. It happens slowly. Quietly. Between impacts. But here’s what the ocean taught me. Hollow doesn’t mean useless. It doesn’t mean weak. Sometimes it just means you survived enough pressure to change shape. The ocean never quits. The wall never runs. And somewhere between crashing and standing you learn how to bend without breaking. I don’t know if I’m the ocean or the wall anymore. Maybe I’m both. Maybe we all are. But I know this. Even hollow things still stand. — Itz_All_True
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Mar 3
Mar 3, 2026 at 9:23 AM UTC
Hollow Against the Ocean
I want to know you inside out, I want to know it all - It doesn't matter if it's important Or if you consider it to be small. Tell me all your secrets, Tell me what makes you, you. Tell me things you won't tell others - What you have gone through. Tell me what upsets you, Tell me what you lack. I won't tell it to anyone - Dear, I've got your back. Tell me what annoys you, What makes you mad, Things that you regret Or things that make you sad. Tell me all the reasons, The reasons why you cry. Let me make you laugh then; At least let me try. I don't know about future, But this much you can be sure, No matter what life brings you, Together we can endure.
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Jul 3, 2025
Jul 3, 2025 at 8:23 AM UTC
Together We Can Endure
not perfect, not loud. but the kind of love that lets you be. they'll see the mess inside you, and love you anyway, just like the sea. they won't need you to shrink or perform, they'll love the way you're soft and torn. they'll call you beatiful-not just "hot"- see your heart, and all it's not. they won't run when things get hard, or hide when you're left feeling scarred. they'll listen when you need to speak, stay when you're strong and when you're weak. you'll never have to guess or chase, they'll show up in the darkest place. they'll be the trust you've always lacked, the hands that pull you from the black. they won't complete you- but with them, you'll feel whole. someone who sees your soul. and when they love you, you'll know it's real. not because they say it, but because they feel.
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Apr 13, 2025
Apr 13, 2025 at 9:42 PM UTC
the one
I’ve lived in your heart for a minute now. And though I love it here, the faucet leaks, the door doesn’t shut right sometimes I have to hold a hand to it just to lock it back. When you drink, the space between your ribs tightens, and your liver expands. The neighbors aren’t so bad. They keep to themselves. When they see me, we talk about how high the rent is, how much we don’t get in return for the association fees, how often we wake up to notices on our door about late payments always knocking like the police. For this reason, I don’t attend any of the meetings. But I don’t want to leave. I’ve lived in your heart for a minute now long enough to sleep through the creaks when it settles, long enough to know that home is where my heart is. Forever isn’t a day here. It stretches into the way you snore when you think no one is listening probably my favorite sound
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Mar 15, 2025
Mar 15, 2025 at 12:18 AM UTC
Forever Isn't A Day
I think that I know that it was all ment to be. No, I believe. I believe that it was all ment to happen. That God closed that door because he knew I couldn't, And that if he was the right one, Our love would never have failed. But because it did, I know that it was never love.
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Nov 11, 2024
Nov 11, 2024 at 7:30 PM UTC
Believe
The day is gone the evening ends, I see every star in your eyes you smile at me we will be here tonight all night, until morning light. When I see you smile, the world is smiling too there's no way to hide, our nights are bright as the moon. You look at me, my girl, I´m looking at you yes, you are my world, my sun and moon. In every day you are always with me we walk, we chat together here day by day the days will be months, in every way years will come soon. When I see you smile, the world is smiling too there's no way to hide, our nights are bright as the moon. You look at me, my girl, I´m looking at you yes, you are my world, my sun and moon. - Tarmo Selter - 2024
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Oct 21, 2024
Oct 21, 2024 at 8:57 AM UTC
My love
If you are smiling, You bring me peace of happines, and if you're laughing, you have my life, no more or less we are together, Even if you are so far, you are my women, I really think that it is love... Like you have seen this happy smile from my face, If you are with me, It doesn't matter, if it is late, I hold your hand now Even if there is so cold And I don't know, how You are the one, who takes my soul... There's so much fun, If we are spending time together And if we run, The whole world seems to be so small then, you and me will never wait until it ends, We always see, There isn't time for us to spend... - Tarmo Selter - 2024
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Oct 21, 2024
Oct 21, 2024 at 8:55 AM UTC
Love
I regret the end. The way we couldn't leave one another without wounds. The way we made it seems as if all the love we shared was wasted time.
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Apr 26, 2022
Apr 26, 2022 at 10:05 PM UTC
SL Gray
Real love lives in your eyes, It lives in your smile. It's even shared through the extension Of your hand. Real love is exceptional & phenomenal, Much like a cassette tape wound up In emotion. Real love is realistic & finds a way to communicate, no matter How hard the emotion. Real love travels with you. Real love lives & breathes the same Breath as you. The beat of your heart divine & Echos mine. Real love remembers the day my heart met yours, Although it's been quite a while, Real love still remembers your name & Although cassette tapes are a bit Outdated. I still remember staying up all night Listening to the sound of your Voice. No matter the instrument, Real love finds a way
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Jun 29, 2021
Jun 29, 2021 at 10:44 AM UTC
Real Love
Real lovers are like A train and a track One can't walk or run Other's useless without first Real lovers are like Sadness and happiness Both are known Because both exist Real lovers are like Plants root and shoot Both keep each other alive Unaware of each other's face
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May 16, 2021
May 16, 2021 at 3:58 AM UTC
Real Love
Hand-written letters are overrated almost non-existent. Like love, as a child, you have longed to experience and even rushed. You knocked on hearts to know what it felt like but all you had were broken bottles of liquors that made you dizzy. Red champagne and Rosé you learned to immune yourself to like water and air you breathe in everyday. Broken dishes on the counter and sink you never washed because you never went home, because there was nothing to go home to. Everything seemed to change when I blew the candle on my 25th birthday cake
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Jul 18, 2020
Jul 18, 2020 at 2:08 PM UTC
april 9
I wish I could've changed sooner So you wouldn't have to hurt I disrespected you in so many ways you never deserved Why do you stay with me I could never figure out You seen so much potential I would always doubt Why did I hurt you One question I could never answer I wanted to be your blessing But my actions changed me into the curse Now I see why you always say you get the worst It's always you but really it's always me You deserve the world That I should leave We've been through so much No one could ever understand Too many misunderstandings were never planned You always held me down Keep it true to the end I downgraded you position and treated you like a friend My love holds more than just a friend I love you like a lover I love you with every part of me I need help letting go this ****** up part of me I wanna change and become the person I intend to be I want that old love back instead of making excuses and giving apologizes Do you love me still even thou i dont deserve it Do you love me still even thou i aint perfect My apologies my sinceres apologies
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Jun 30, 2020
Jun 30, 2020 at 8:19 PM UTC
Changes
I asked for you, just before you showed up When you appeared, you got me confused And I began to wonder, can this actually be true? Maybe I was too lost in my imagination, and you are just indeed a figment of it Letters became words and then sentences and my anxiety grew deeper Then my thought wandered, what if this is really true? Maybe I was too lost in my past, and you were just a safe haven for me That day approached very slowly My wired brain began to fear the disappointment I start to ask myself, What if I don't like you? Maybe I was too lost in my fears, and you were going to be too good to comprehend Early December came like a plague The thought of you under the same sun made me flutter Then my heart gently pounded, as I see your face appear from the dark You are in fact a figment of my imagination Giving me a safe haven to shield me away from my hideous past But somehow, You had become a reality that was too good to comprehend Now I ask you, was I a figment of your imagination as well? Or perhaps, that reality you were searching for? I wonder...
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Dec 16, 2019
Dec 16, 2019 at 11:19 AM UTC
Figment of Imagination
The other day I was ricocheting slowly off the blue walls of this room, moving as if underwater from typewriter to piano, from bookshelf to an envelope lying on the floor, when I found myself in the L section of the dictionary where my eyes fell upon the word lanyard. No cookie nibbled by a French novelist could send one into the past more suddenly- a past where I sat at a workbench at a camp by a deep Adirondack lake learning how to braid long thin plastic strips into a lanyard, a gift for my mother. I had never seen anyone use a lanyard or wear one, if that’s what you did with them, but that did not keep me from crossing strand over strand again and again until I had made a boxy red and white lanyard for my mother. She gave me life and milk from her ******* and I gave her a lanyard. She nursed me in many a sick room, lifted spoons of medicine to my lips, laid cold face-clothes on my forehead, and then led me out into the air light and taught me to walk and swim, and I, in turn, presented her with a lanyard. Here are thousands of meals, she said, and here is clothing and a good education. And here is your lanyard, I replied, which I made with a little help from a counselor. Here is a breathing body and a beating heart, strong legs, bones and teeth, and two clear eyes to read the world, she whispered, and here, I said, is the lanyard I made at camp. And here, I wish to say to her now, is a smaller gift – not the worn truth that you can never repay your mother, but the rueful admission that when she took the two-toned lanyard from my hand, I was as sure as a boy could be that this useless, worthless thing I wove out of boredom would be enough to make us even.
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Nov 12, 2019
Nov 12, 2019 at 10:54 PM UTC
The Lanyard by Billy Collins
The other day I was ricocheting slowly off the blue walls of this room, moving as if underwater from typewriter to piano, from bookshelf to an envelope lying on the floor, when I found myself in the L section of the dictionary where my eyes fell upon the word lanyard. No cookie nibbled by a French novelist could send one into the past more suddenly- a past where I sat at a workbench at a camp by a deep Adirondack lake learning how to braid long thin plastic strips into a lanyard, a gift for my mother. I had never seen anyone use a lanyard or wear one, if that’s what you did with them, but that did not keep me from crossing strand over strand again and again until I had made a boxy red and white lanyard for my mother. She gave me life and milk from her ******* and I gave her a lanyard. She nursed me in many a sick room, lifted spoons of medicine to my lips, laid cold face-clothes on my forehead, and then led me out into the air light and taught me to walk and swim, and I, in turn, presented her with a lanyard. Here are thousands of meals, she said, and here is clothing and a good education. And here is your lanyard, I replied, which I made with a little help from a counselor. Here is a breathing body and a beating heart, strong legs, bones and teeth, and two clear eyes to read the world, she whispered, and here, I said, is the lanyard I made at camp. And here, I wish to say to her now, is a smaller gift – not the worn truth that you can never repay your mother, but the rueful admission that when she took the two-toned lanyard from my hand, I was as sure as a boy could be that this useless, worthless thing I wove out of boredom would be enough to make us even.
Continue reading...
42
Love is love, it’s not that complicated, Love does not care what color or *** you or your love is, because Love is all inclusive it doesn’t discriminate, Love is colorblind, Love Sees No Color Love wears Cross Colours jumpers, Love is abundant, just ask Russell Simmons or Gloria Carter, or her baby Jay Z or anyone else who is an authentic Lover, Love is unconditional & it’s available to everyone, regardless of class social status religion region or color, it’s okay to feel good, smile you deserve it, dedicate yourself to love, believe me it’s worth it, you get what you give so give 100%, remember to forget & forgive them, even if they’re not perfect, because no person walking this earth’s surface is, but you can still find yourself a good girlfriend or boyfriend, as long as you’re willing to work with them, & you two can still be your own version of Bonnie & Clyde, can still be in love & serve them with services, there’s wisdom in these verses here, modern day scriptures for gangstas & hipsters, they don’t call him LaLux or J-Hova for nothing, no fronting true strength requires no crutches or addictions, just enough Dedication as Lil Wayne to get to 10,000 hours, as laid out well by Macklemore or Malcolm Gladwell’s Outliers, a Master of Self a ******* from Hell, ***** as hell but he cleans up well I own all my Master, you should probably own yours as well, well, the floods are coming, there’s some prophecy for you, either ride the Tidal wave or get washed straight away, washing the straight leg green jeans clean so there’s no proof, only proof is us see our success & ourselves are Self Evident, only witness God won’t testify against our business interest, the evidence is obvious see we are all sovereign entities, you are your own country so you are your own president, a one person army a one person president, who roams the whole globe everywhere’s their residence, channelling these visions into verses of the present tense, told you before I’m not a business man I’m a business, man... Smile is continued in THHT3... ∆ LaLux ∆ an excerpt from poem #24 of THHT3: The Hollywood Hills Trilogy 3 available on Amazon here: www.amazon.com/dp/1950780023 If you've read this far I'd like to show my appreciation by buying you a copy of THHT3 from Amazon myself, seriously, for free. Just send me a Message here or on IG @aaronlaux
0
Sep 23, 2019
Sep 23, 2019 at 9:14 PM UTC
Smile (from poem #24 from the FREE BOOK)
Love is love, it’s not that complicated, Love does not care what color or *** you or your love is, because Love is all inclusive it doesn’t discriminate, Love is colorblind, Love Sees No Color Love wears Cross Colours jumpers, Love is abundant, just ask Russell Simmons or Gloria Carter, or her baby Jay Z or anyone else who is an authentic Lover, Love is unconditional & it’s available to everyone, regardless of class social status religion region or color, it’s okay to feel good, smile you deserve it, dedicate yourself to love, believe me it’s worth it, you get what you give so give 100%, remember to forget & forgive them, even if they’re not perfect, because no person walking this earth’s surface is, but you can still find yourself a good girlfriend or boyfriend, as long as you’re willing to work with them, & you two can still be your own version of Bonnie & Clyde, can still be in love & serve them with services, there’s wisdom in these verses here, modern day scriptures for gangstas & hipsters, they don’t call him LaLux or J-Hova for nothing, no fronting true strength requires no crutches or addictions, just enough Dedication as Lil Wayne to get to 10,000 hours, as laid out well by Macklemore or Malcolm Gladwell’s Outliers, a Master of Self a ******* from Hell, ***** as hell but he cleans up well I own all my Master, you should probably own yours as well, well, the floods are coming, there’s some prophecy for you, either ride the Tidal wave or get washed straight away, washing the straight leg green jeans clean so there’s no proof, only proof is us see our success & ourselves are Self Evident, only witness God won’t testify against our business interest, the evidence is obvious see we are all sovereign entities, you are your own country so you are your own president, a one person army a one person president, who roams the whole globe everywhere’s their residence, channelling these visions into verses of the present tense, told you before I’m not a business man I’m a business, man... Smile is continued in THHT3... ∆ LaLux ∆ an excerpt from poem #24 of THHT3: The Hollywood Hills Trilogy 3 available on Amazon here: www.amazon.com/dp/1950780023 If you've read this far I'd like to show my appreciation by buying you a copy of THHT3 from Amazon myself, seriously, for free. Just send me a Message here or on IG @aaronlaux
Continue reading...
48
I let him break into my house filled with dirt and with filth From all the past loves that broke a part of me He got the glue and got the paint, he made me clean, he made me safe He filled me with colors and flowers and told me he would stay He turned me from a house into a home And kept me where I was meant to be Cause “home” for him wasn’t a place “Home” for him was me And he held me and he kissed me He took me by surprise Indescribable feelings with no words, tangled up in his eyes And I knew his every secret, every smile and every cry And with him even hell, seemed to be alright
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Oct 7, 2018
Oct 7, 2018 at 5:43 PM UTC
“Home”
How could I let myself fall for you. For your sweet smile. For your cold blue eyes For your laugh. That laugh that sounded like heaven. How could I let myself fall for that sweet talk. For the taste of your lips. For the way you smelled like lavender and cigarettes. For the way you gripped me when we hugged. For the way your warm lips felt against my cold skin. How could I let myself fall for you. For your stupid jokes. For your strangeness. How could I be so blind. I didn't see the real you. I was blinded by your mask of purity. You were a villain disguised as a hero. You stole my heart and left me to bleed. You watched as I cru m bl e d. You didn't care... Not about me at least. How could I be so foolish to think you were the one. My one. How could I... How could you. How could you play me for the fool I am. The fool I was. How could we think we would last. How could I. How... -RNL
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Jun 20, 2018
Jun 20, 2018 at 5:58 AM UTC
How Could I
I've been working OT, Tryna show you what it like just to be with me But everytime that you come close, I'm running away Unconscious saying I just need my space. But when I'm all alone my thoughts of you sway, Dreaming 'bout the day that you call me baby. I'm stuck on stupid tryna plot on my next move But my guard so high I can't seem to see my way through.
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Jun 3, 2018
Jun 3, 2018 at 9:43 PM UTC
OT
Match off Burn the cigarettes Read my eyes, tell me my regrets **** I got depression I got ************* passions My mother was asking, I'm a burning mess I'm a disaster Don't you dare lay a hand on her unless you ask her I hate all these cowards These addicts This magic I hate all the pillagers Who destroy my villagers I hate the rapists, and abusers and catcallers Cause when I get my hands on you You're gonna be running and falling Off of the edge of your world Don't think you'll get away with it You ******* idiot. AHEM Sorry, I got carried away there, Hey Mr. Internet, Thank you, You saved my life in February, yea Thank you, Because of the internet I got an audience, To hear the stupid **** I wrote down In class on a sticky note with my red pen Thank you, Because of the internet I got a bunch a friends But because of the internet I got a bunch of mood swings And I'm losing grasp of things **** the internet I love the internet I love this girl I'm talking to, through A screen But is that real love? Because we only know each other's words and not our voice But is that really a choice, Man, I'm ****** up. It's ****** up because like You get so lost in someone That the only way to get out Is to just, Delete them Because you can't really delete people from real life But you can And it's ******* horrible
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Apr 21, 2018
Apr 21, 2018 at 2:55 PM UTC
February (internet)
I’ve been wondering why you love broken pieces, If we have to behold how this love ceases. I’ve been sinking and drowning, Love, my only air, I have to breathe. Oh, Misery, I didn’t see you coming. I’ve been wondering why you love broken pieces, My heart was wounded up, beaten up, and bruised, It can give nothing... Yes, nothing, But the scream of my own agony. I’ve been wondering why you love broken pieces, When, someday, you have to leave me alone. Time is running faster, even better than we do. Someday, we will be done and finished. Time is pursuing us, yet we did nothing... But to hold onto things that can’t be ours. I’ve been wondering why you love broken pieces. Oh my soul, an inexplicable puzzle, That you tried to fix and figure out. You picked them up for me, You reminded me, You would always be there to make me smile, When I break into a million pieces. And you’ll be the one loving me for who I am. I’ve been wondering why you loved me... Cause, you knew that... Someday we have leave and go. But no matter how hard I try to leave, I would always be coming back for you. To you my heart shall belong.... You are my only beat, I had become your only tune. I will be the smile in your blue, And will always be the one loving you When you turn into broken pieces. You will see and grasp, Someday, your words will be running after you.... Someday you’ll remember... Someday you’ll perceive... Why I cherish broken pieces.
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Feb 28, 2018
Feb 28, 2018 at 5:08 AM UTC
Broken Pieces
They call me heart breaker But you will never know How my heart flipped, footsteps shaking When I saw your back Roses. Monograms. Black Umbrella. Warming my hands on rain-washed streets Canal lined with silver Cosy bistrot, and how you lit my soul up They say my heart is broken and gone But you will never know How long I wanted it to last Luscious, wanton, bodies entwined Chest against cheek, your heart beat fast Burying my blush in your plushie Grinning from the bottom of my heart They say I am cold and merciless But you will never know How a girl with a brain as cool as ice Red lips. Feline eyes. Velvet dress. But I skipped all the lords and Barons and accidentally left the rest of my life tucked in a condo, me in your arms on a cold January night
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Jan 29, 2018
Jan 29, 2018 at 5:16 PM UTC
They say