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#toyou
there used to be a terrifying place i had to go but you came in with your skyscraper touch, now i have vertigo. not sick to my stomach, just a little bit distressed how you would want to see me loved limitlessly and dressed. these wounds are boils little coils round my throat and you look at me long enough for me to almost explode. never been a volcano, always an accidental surge now i guess you mean it this time, i will surely self-implode. never dying alone, saw you in your overcoat, we drove twenty miles south to a sweet girl’s house then, when you saw me falling asleep you said it was time to go. oh, i’ve never been so carefully watched over, always straddled the line of being a complete soulless loner. you are not my owner, when we get much older do you think we’d be happy with our heads on the other’s shoulders?
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May 20, 2024
May 20, 2024 at 2:14 PM UTC
ode to you
i love how your voice hugs my heart and surrounds it like home, cause when i hear your voice it feels so warm, almost like you give me hope. hope for opening my eyes, hope for running even more miles far away, just so i can see all the smiles that i missed. your voice reminds me of peace as I hide in those notes as you try to form your words all i want to be is yours
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Sep 18, 2021
Sep 18, 2021 at 2:31 PM UTC
my heart in your voice
I hope you feel alive. Perhaps while looking at your favourite scenery, While feeling the cold on your skin, While singing. I hope you feel loved, while looking at her face And maybe when the wind passes and whispers my name, I hope you hear nothing and continue with your day.
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Jun 24, 2019
Jun 24, 2019 at 5:52 PM UTC
I hope you feel alive
This is a letter to my heart... Your pure rawness could never compete with this savage world. You've cried so many times for the bruises you let remain open. You're patient thinking that things will change. You're graceful with the way you silently cry. The way you hide your pain with a smile and a nod. You always tell yourself that you are done, then it happens again and again. You've been hurt so many times longing to give someone another half of you. But they take it and run. You've known lonely, heartache, betrayal, and so much more. It's happened so many times you believe that you are broken, unwanted, damaged, ugly. I know it's hard to hear but you are neither. The world is a damaged place for a deceivable heart.                                                      Sincerely,                                                                               You
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Nov 12, 2018
Nov 12, 2018 at 8:13 PM UTC
For you.
love is a wonderful thing it fills our hearts with a feeling a warm feeling cant even describe it... ha! well on second thought, lets give this another go love is terrifying its something many people fail to show it drives you to do things irrational things it can tear us all apart oh-and it has! sometimes love is just so sweet other times its bitter and **** you must know in order to love someone truly you must be able to give yourself up to them and thats hard because us humans are selfish but to the few that do give themselves up does your partner do the same? if not do you feel that your the one to blame? for those who don't- who wont give themselves up for their significant other do you feel guilty? really think about it it will make you become at war with yourself for not being enough for that person that you love and you will try so hard to make them happy! well lets see, raise of hands! how many of you have you failed to love properly?
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Oct 11, 2018
Oct 11, 2018 at 6:25 PM UTC
love is...
To the girl beside the mirror, How long has it been since you saw your own reflection? Trying so hard to hide beside it, not knowing what would you see or who would it be. Will there be a shadow from the past? or a clear view of future? To the girl who silently sings her emotions, How long has it been since somebody listens to you? People say they hear you but still don't know what to do. Everyday you explain, but still don't know who or what to blame Will there be someone to rescue you from this cycle of games? and lastly, To girl who wrote this letter, How long has it been since you started this new world? A world that is covered with sincere words and sensitive feelings. A world where your life has a whole new meaning. Will there be a time that you'll stop dreaming?
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May 18, 2018
May 18, 2018 at 11:55 PM UTC
To you.
Its always been the same old story everyday, The looping routine like movie scenes on replay, Everything feels bland, dull and uninteresting, God, I just wish for a change so thrilling. It's always the same mistake In every second, every minute actions I make Everything has been controlled by anxiety I wondered, when will my fears vanish and make things confidently. This solitary life is a mess I want to flee To leave it all behind, someone please take me I'm left standing at a crossroads, waiting for that twist Regardless of how long, for someone I don't want to miss But seems I was blinded coz I can't see the light, Or was I just looking for someone without noticing my might? Standing in the rainy plains where the sky is gloom, While hoping for someone to reach my hand in a place where I could be doomed I hope to find you soon, pull you out of that dreaded fate I'll be the one to quench your thirst, I hope I'm not too late Someday we'll be together proud shouting each others names And feels euphoria that we found each other in flames
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Feb 24, 2018
Feb 24, 2018 at 11:47 AM UTC
Light My Way To You (Collaboration with Merida)
I still long for you, no time too long no distance too great, still out here writing my heart out in these verses, on these pages as the war rages sounding cliche, still going to fancy pants dance parties, although I’m not sure exactly why, because while everyone’s on the middle of the dance floor, I’m alone in a comfortable corner writing these lines on the side, and we both know I try to substitute you, with all these other girls, but I told you before for you there’s no substitute, because these other girls are just “other girls”, they are not you, they do not understand our artistic plights, that’s why when they ask what I’m writing about, I don’t even want to attempt to try and reply, but if I do reply when they ask what I’m writing, as I’m in that comfortable corner writing these lines on the side, I either abbreviate my emotions by simply stating I’m writing poems, or if I do go into detail I just tell them a lie, I tell them, I’m writing about the world, when really, the truth is all I’m writing about is you, in solitude, not trying to be rude, I’d just rather be alone writing these poems, than be with any other girl other than you, in a solitary confinement of my own design, because I locked my heart away and lost the key, then found that surprisingly you’d found the key, now you’re the only one that can break my heart free, because, I still long for you, no time too long no distance too great, still out here writing my heart out in these verses, on these pages as the war rages sounding cliche, still going to fancy pants dance parties, although I’m not sure exactly why, because while everyone’s on the middle of the dance floor, I’m alone in a comfortable corner writing these lines on the side… ∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆
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Dec 6, 2017
Dec 6, 2017 at 7:50 AM UTC
Only You
I still long for you, no time too long no distance too great, still out here writing my heart out in these verses, on these pages as the war rages sounding cliche, still going to fancy pants dance parties, although I’m not sure exactly why, because while everyone’s on the middle of the dance floor, I’m alone in a comfortable corner writing these lines on the side, and we both know I try to substitute you, with all these other girls, but I told you before for you there’s no substitute, because these other girls are just “other girls”, they are not you, they do not understand our artistic plights, that’s why when they ask what I’m writing about, I don’t even want to attempt to try and reply, but if I do reply when they ask what I’m writing, as I’m in that comfortable corner writing these lines on the side, I either abbreviate my emotions by simply stating I’m writing poems, or if I do go into detail I just tell them a lie, I tell them, I’m writing about the world, when really, the truth is all I’m writing about is you, in solitude, not trying to be rude, I’d just rather be alone writing these poems, than be with any other girl other than you, in a solitary confinement of my own design, because I locked my heart away and lost the key, then found that surprisingly you’d found the key, now you’re the only one that can break my heart free, because, I still long for you, no time too long no distance too great, still out here writing my heart out in these verses, on these pages as the war rages sounding cliche, still going to fancy pants dance parties, although I’m not sure exactly why, because while everyone’s on the middle of the dance floor, I’m alone in a comfortable corner writing these lines on the side… ∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆
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42
Lovely Mistake or What? Breathing and thinking alone Hold bewildered and puzzled The misfortune grow abominably And feel like my heart is gonna explode. It really so hard at finding delightful moment But just meet with I don’t want to Inside Chanting echo all the time Asking for Enchanting a good life. There is nobody to blame with But couldn’t help counting me in The story started by a cup of beer Need to be ended by a cup of beer. #JayJayJakky
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Mar 9, 2017
Mar 9, 2017 at 5:35 AM UTC
Lovely Mistake or What?
I have no lines to read I threw them in the sea it's where the people are it's there they fall apart We're bound by flesh and blood and fill the pages up our minds are going fast We try to make them last But everybody's doubt is being thrown about And as the words collide We die another time Don't let the voices in or watch the curses win remember you are here but not to disappear
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Aug 14, 2016
Aug 14, 2016 at 9:56 PM UTC
To you, to anyone
The clock ticks, we are far away from each other I watched the trees as the skies went darker In a few minutes, our eyes will meet And in that moment my heart will skip a beat Are you thinking of me now? I wish I appear in your mind somehow Because your figure resides inside It's a part of me that I can never hide As time goes by, as I travel by train The thought of you causes me less pain In just a few minutes we'll meet In just a few minutes, this is it I always remember how wide your smile was How your eyes' brightness never lasts How your voice gives comfort to my ears And these little things rid me of my fears Are you at the train station already? Are you still waiting for me? Do not worry, I'll be there soon It's just a matter of time... until our world blooms
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Nov 4, 2015
Nov 4, 2015 at 3:27 AM UTC
Train To You
Who are we kidding when we place a bottle to our lips and try to call it a marriage of some sort the last thing I remember a straw between my teeth then your ear in its place fast forward to me counting the steps to your door 1, 2, 3.. 6.. 14..25 I was barely 13 before I was taught love was a call to arms, not a veritable verb you told me it was good enough holding it in my palm and really I should’ve known when every attempt at romance was nothing above a whisper how I was your best kept secret at 15 at 19, I still unravel under the influence my cup is empty from the nights I gave you so much it tumbled into the morning after but all that was left to grab at was your hair on my pillow, you were spontaneous like that, weren’t you? and I, hey, why won’t you just lighten up? You fancied flight and I only wanted the pebbles crushed beneath my plimsolls telling me all I ever needed to know, that the smallest only get stifled more and before I knew it I was a crushed up beer can, insides still wet *god **** it* coursing real liquid in real time just so I could live to love you and you tell me, sobriety hurts like I’m only beautiful when I’m a blur oh sweetheart, if only you knew how pretty your eyes were before they rolled to the back of your head, and sweetheart, I hope you make it home tonight. and that home, is you retching on the floor, on your knees because that’s where you liked me best.
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Mar 20, 2015
Mar 20, 2015 at 1:33 PM UTC
what the young teaches the younger
I cried simply because I could. You made it that way. You made it easy for me to do things that are selfish or dramatic, you allowed me to be human and most of all, to be honest with myself. You made it easy for me to not feel ashamed. When I cried over the phone it was because even on my worst nights when I would stab you in the chest, you would pull the blade out and apologize for getting blood on me. When I was violent, you were gentle. I do not mean to victimize you or demonize myself, but that is as raw as the truth will get. I cried because the bed space next to me was empty, and I cried because the grace of an angel does that kind of thing to you. I felt like a drug to you and you would always let me know that you were addicted, delirious, demented and proud. And in favor, I too would let you **** me as long as it meant that you ran through me every second of every day. You told me that when you DO think of her, you see the image of the 17, 18 year old you sitting on your bed, across the room where it used to be, crying on empty nights, an empty mattress, an empty chest, and perhaps empty bottles or empty promises as well. That you had to classically condition yourself to not let her cross your mind, because it became a routine for you to let the torture flood your lungs, and leave you out of breath. I asked you what you thought of when you think of me, and you said your bedsheets. You said that when it comes to me, it's the image of a new you, a new person fresh out of old skin, sitting on your bed, near the window where you moved it to a couple of months ago, with the sheets perfectly layered and fixed, simply because I know how you love it so. I remembered an annoying peeve that you had, a quirk, or a typo in the page. I memorized it, simply so that I could fix it, and save you the trouble. You said that it was something so minimal, yet it meant so much. When you spoke about me and when you spoke about her, you spoke of two different people who came into your life that symbolized two different you's, but to me you were always the same person just eating different things for dinner, and bathing in different temperatures.
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Dec 1, 2014
Dec 1, 2014 at 10:18 PM UTC
"You were already better than my past with the first word you said to me."
I cried simply because I could. You made it that way. You made it easy for me to do things that are selfish or dramatic, you allowed me to be human and most of all, to be honest with myself. You made it easy for me to not feel ashamed. When I cried over the phone it was because even on my worst nights when I would stab you in the chest, you would pull the blade out and apologize for getting blood on me. When I was violent, you were gentle. I do not mean to victimize you or demonize myself, but that is as raw as the truth will get. I cried because the bed space next to me was empty, and I cried because the grace of an angel does that kind of thing to you. I felt like a drug to you and you would always let me know that you were addicted, delirious, demented and proud. And in favor, I too would let you **** me as long as it meant that you ran through me every second of every day. You told me that when you DO think of her, you see the image of the 17, 18 year old you sitting on your bed, across the room where it used to be, crying on empty nights, an empty mattress, an empty chest, and perhaps empty bottles or empty promises as well. That you had to classically condition yourself to not let her cross your mind, because it became a routine for you to let the torture flood your lungs, and leave you out of breath. I asked you what you thought of when you think of me, and you said your bedsheets. You said that when it comes to me, it's the image of a new you, a new person fresh out of old skin, sitting on your bed, near the window where you moved it to a couple of months ago, with the sheets perfectly layered and fixed, simply because I know how you love it so. I remembered an annoying peeve that you had, a quirk, or a typo in the page. I memorized it, simply so that I could fix it, and save you the trouble. You said that it was something so minimal, yet it meant so much. When you spoke about me and when you spoke about her, you spoke of two different people who came into your life that symbolized two different you's, but to me you were always the same person just eating different things for dinner, and bathing in different temperatures.
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I want to dance with you to jazz music while we wear only our underwear at 2am. I want our bodies to know each other so well that our hearts start to beat in unison. I crave to hear the fluent Spanish flow off your lips when I make you feel something that English can not express. I want to call you mine before bed when you finally let your hair drape down past your shoulders, and when you make your first cup of coffee in the morning. It's 5 in the morning and I can't stop thinking about her loving you the way that I should be.
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Nov 29, 2014
Nov 29, 2014 at 9:29 PM UTC
An unfinished poem that I don't have the guts to send to the girl with a heart for someone else
Is it worth Anything in the end? I truly do pray To the seasons And the rain And the tears that fall From my eyes to the floor. To the sky and the Clouds and the spirits Traveling throughout the atmosphere. I pray to them that One day this may be sanity And I may be in love With someone who wants me Nearly half as much as I Want to be next to them.
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Apr 14, 2014
Apr 14, 2014 at 3:04 PM UTC
To M