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Oct 2018 · 635
Aidan Derocher Oct 2018
As i sit in my room,
after the sound of shattering tungsten
darkness envelopes

i lack eyes that can see anymore
lack ability to hear in the audible silence
lack everything but the ability to feel

and so i feel
Oct 2018 · 158
Aidan Derocher Oct 2018
pick your poison, is how the adage goes
no one toxin is identical
they all accomplish the same deed

ground by each decision
you wither away to no more than a fine dust
worn from the stress of painful repercussions
those of work and relaxation
those of love and isolation
those of life and death

i gaze into the wandering eyes of others, and wonder
how hollow are they
do they have substance or
are they solely a shell
held together by the laws of conformity
never daring to commit that felony

i guess that makes me criminal
as I choose to crumble visibly,
at least without a guise
i can be reborn into
Apr 2018 · 174
Aidan Derocher Apr 2018
when you write a poem, you own it
you give it your life, you give it meaning
it is your thoughts; it is you

yet as soon as that poem is read by another
it is no longer yours
your meaning — gone

its a redefinition
for the one who reads
it is their work
Apr 2018 · 453
Aidan Derocher Apr 2018
cinder rains from the sky,
a past life immolated.

my soul was ignited,
by the fire in her eyes.

the structure built is now aflame,
crumbling to oblivion.

and like all change,
there is accompanying fear.

are her feelings real? are mine? does she regret asking? why did she ask? how do i act? am i not caring enough? am i too caring? am i scaring her off? does she really want to spend time with me?  am i fit for such a blessing? can i ever meet her expectations? leave her satisfied? happy?

i don't know
i don't know
i don't know

but what i do know,
is that there is a sulfuric cloud looming,
ready to engulf me,
if i am to ever fall
Apr 2018 · 349
Aidan Derocher Apr 2018
every footstep taken
sinks slightly more

into this marshland, into life
into fear

can i cast my hand out
and have her catch it

or will even the attempt
be yet another misstep
Mar 2018 · 247
Aidan Derocher Mar 2018
This is the end of eras,
time pivoting, slipping on ice,
people dying, people crying,
lost all sense of foresight.

Yet with the crumble of this world,
a new light may begin to shine,
rising up like a phoenix,
we must not be blind.
So where may I fit in,
in this dance of loss and love,
you took my hand,
pulled me to your side.
Saved me from the void of isolation,
casting it to the side,
I am brought into the sunlight,
your love making me burn bright.
This is the end of eras,
and I have not died,

bring me with you through times of sorrows,
help me rebuild a new life
Mar 2018 · 261
The price we pay
Aidan Derocher Mar 2018
saline drops,
concealed scars,
forever rending into our hearts,
//until we inevitably fracture into the stars.
Mar 2018 · 219
Aidan Derocher Mar 2018
my muscles frozen;
my legs locked;
my eyes fixed;
my mind inert all from;
my imagination of you;
my love
Mar 2018 · 168
Aidan Derocher Mar 2018
The timer started long ago
counting every day—every night
cycling between
time he lives in fake bliss
time i live in real depression
resets at four
hard to track
and when they look
the clock ices over
and cracks

and my heart breaks
as they come to hate me
see me as egocentric
as i fracture
inept in interactions
pathetic at reassuring

it's four
time to take my medicine
time to hide
until i

----         ­ / \           ----
----                    |                      ----
----    ­                      |                            ----
----     ­                        |                               ----
----                               |                                 ----
----                                |                       ­           ----
----                                | ------------->              ----
----                                       ­                         ----
----                               ­                            ----
----                                                     ----
----                                           ----
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Feb 2018 · 180
Aidan Derocher Feb 2018
All great gifts,
accompanied by commensurate burden.

Education – confinement:
locked in a covert cage,
screams for change drowned by cacophony.

Power – greed:
prioritization of ego,
addicting, no rehab.

Love – pain:
relations binding ones heart,
only to pull apart.

Yet paralleling these agonies,
real terrors exist.
Death, deceit, despare,
prevalent in millions.

Yet these remain in the smog,
obscured by our own complaints.

However, humans possess unique strength:
the ability to instigate change.
First in our own small world,
and then in the one so large.
Life is not fair, but why? We can make it just. All the hardships in our lives, we can influence, benefit. We hold similar power over others' lives. We can cause great change, but only when we are unified: when we are too loud to ignore. So stand up and shout! Don't wish for new hope; forge a world where we need not hope.
Feb 2018 · 249
Florecer de Fragilidad
Aidan Derocher Feb 2018
con todos amaneceres eventualmente habrá un atardecer;
con todos atardeceres, un amanecer y una sonrisa serán inevitables.
una espada de doble fino
Feb 2018 · 324
love's lament
Aidan Derocher Feb 2018
triumph shatters through sadness
leaving shards for the rest to be flayed by
few find intimacy and break free
while we are consumed by perpetual envy

i cry to know that i am exempt
left behind in solitude
for who could find solace in me
who is more nuisance than friend

love, lust, and loss
primordial since existence
inexplicably bound

one may believe in relations
another may succumb to lust
yet either way
the ultimatum is loss

so I plea
to all compatriots in this flood
let those fears be washed away
support, love, be loved
as we will eventually drown
Feb 2018 · 279
Aidan Derocher Feb 2018
There is nothing quite like the morning dew.
Shimmering in the budding sunlight,
refracting light into a prism of splendor.
Present at the world's rebirth; lost in the hours to come.
Yet always emerging anew.
For this beauty is not one of mourning;
it is just simply the morning dew.
Jan 2018 · 224
Aidan Derocher Jan 2018
a fog descends, encroaching the mind
wisps lost into the haze: minimal visibility ensured
a strength without direction, meandering through forest
ice encrusts logic; hail bombards reason
i am left

solely with agony
bliss ignorance into incompetence
sheeps alone in a storm
awaiting some dog to provide direction
i ponder: why wait for consensus
if no-one cares to agree and ascend
Jan 2018 · 174
Aidan Derocher Jan 2018
head hung low in the shower after a day without power,
hot streams of water meld with tears,
one cleansing, the other demoralizing, but combined are indiscernible.

fear is to abstract to express the response to the trials of the day,
clumped into the categories of emotions taught in the horrendous brick,
the trauma of being unknown, unloved, ignored and ridiculed is inexplicable.

mortification is more accurate,
mortified of being late,

what happens when one overflows?
succumbs to express feeling, express humanity?
bursting from pent-up anxiety?
mockery, for being weak, for being honest.

So I trudge day after day,
Say words I don’t mean,
Put on the facade of happiness,
Do my best to please, but always just annoying
Yet no matter what I do,
The resolution is the same,
Returning to the wretched shower.

— The End —