her churiyan clashed
submerging in the red, orange and green
of her sharara
as she spun round and round
a blur of striking colors
her laughing face hidden
among those of her cousins
as they danced in a circle
each girl wearing colors of the rainbow
smiles like the sun brightening their faces
their bare feet decorated with mehndi
as they spun on their toes
letting their hair follow them like velvet curtains
the pitter patter of their restless feet
becoming one with the music around them
the elders of the family
throwing rose petals and clapping
watching the new generation
bless the married couple
with laughter, colors & life
the girl with curls in her hair
pulling down the bride-to-be
off the stage and onto the dance floor
her fiancé nudging her and watching his future
twirl with the young girls
as families became from two to one
he looked upon his love with eyes full of wonder
as she pushed back her dark hair and hid her face
refusing to dance
but even the blushing bride couldn't stop the girls
from convincing her to join them
they took her by the hands
and let the music guide them as they threw their arms in the air
swaying to songs about boundless ishq
and the stars which shine upon those who fall in the arms of endless love
the bride's red gharara shimmering under the lights
complimenting the red in her cheeks
the sparkle in her teeka bright
but never brighter than the twinkle in her euphoric eyes
her mother teared watching her baby all grown up
and her father looked at her as his success
seeing his only daughter so full of joy
others onlooked
as the girls embraced their youth
and with the bride created a circle of joy
for that moment,
the love was shared between them all
they forgot all about their heartbreaks
and the everlasting love which never lasted
they forgot all about the boys with pretty eyes and even prettier lies
as they rejoiced over the love of their loved ones
with a little inch of hope in their own hearts
that someday someone would look at them
as the smiling groom did the stunning bride
passion. surety. serenity.
*pyaar

Blue* is cold,
Like beauty which falls,  
Called rain.
Like the warm blanket I sleep with,
While they starve.
Blue is the colour writers write about,
When they speak of heartbreaks.
And the colour of the monsters,
Under your bed.
Blue is the red and white of the Americans,
And the Ashoka Chakra of the Indians,
The colour of the eyes of the Germans who lived,
And the colour of the tears of the Jews who lost.
Blue is the skin of the dark hued god you pray to,
And the sky he looks at,
And the sky I look at,
Blue is the fading Sun,
And the sleeping Moon,
The stars in the sky,
Which we wish upon,
Which are already dead,
Like all our dreams.
Blue is the vast ocean we can not cross,
But we have,
With our metal birds......those aren't blue.
Blue is the blood the women bleed,
And the Palestinians in Israel.
And the sleepless children fighting wars.
Blue is free health care,
And overpopulation.
Blue is religion,
And it is death.
Blue is the glazing over your eyes as you read this.
Because *blue...isnt a colour.

oh boy, you make my heart wonder

no, stop, i can't like my best friend

your eyes are so enchanting

no, what am I doing?

the way you walk, the way you talk...

oh boy what have I gotten myself into?

I have to make sure you'll never figure out
that'll for sure ruin our friendship,
our 119 day streak on Snapchat(ha) ,
and your name will disappear from my number one bestfriend spot...

we won't do photo shoots anymore,
or take long cars rides to the middle of nowhere

we won't lay in your backyard under the stars
asking stupid  questions about life

we won't cry together over heartbreaks

we won't laugh at absolutely nothing at 2:00 in the morning

i can't tell you how I feel

you'll always see me as just a friend...

oh boy

No tears
A myriad fears
Mixed feelings
Heart wrenching heartbreaks.

No Valentine

Happy Valentine’s Day,
so fckn cliche,
no Valentine,
no sublime,
no feelings of ecstasy,

no we just me,

alone,
once again,
faced with my own thoughts,
and the deafening sounds of this silent hotel room,

I’m alone,
and I probably deserve it,
this is likely my proper karma,
the emotional toll paid in full all cash no credit,

the piper being paid,
for every heart I’ve ever slayed,
for every good girl I’ve ever played,
for every time I left when she wanted me to stay,

they were good girls,
they didn’t deserve it,
I was a bad boy,
and didn’t even know it,
I guess the only thing worse than breaking a heart,
is not even realizing that you’re the one that broke it,

she loved me,
most of them did,
and I left most of them,
with scars and sorrowed sentiment,
and I apologize in all honesty,
even though heartbreak was never what I intended,
but breaking a heart is breaking a heart,
no matter whether or not the Breaker even ever meant it,

this is what happens when there’s desire,
but for lasting love their’s no incentive,
like a dozen roses ready to go,
with the postage paid but with no place for the sender to send it,

as this sick cycle signals,
it’s time to either heal this or end it,
as these deep wounds burrow,
this can only be described as deserted and desolate,

chocolate,
hearts,
melt,

in the Sunshine of Time,

thoughts,
of her,
felt,

as they frolic through my mind,

no Valentine,
probably won’t have one,
until I’ve paid in full,
for every good girl I ever left,

so I likely have a few more heartbreaks headed my way,
because I’m not yet done paying off this debt,

and I’ll pay,
and I’ll pay,
and I’ll pay,
I’ll pay until there’s nothing left,

and then,
hopefully,
at that point in time,
I will finally find the girl out there that I know somewhere exists,

the one that’s been doing time like me,
the one who’s broke just as many hearts,
the one who too is paying off her relationship karma,
by repeatedly getting her heart broken apart,

even though we know what they say,
you can’t turn a bad girl good,
but once a good girl goes bad she’s gone,
forever,

whatever,
either way she’s out there,
and even though I’ve never met her,
I know I already love her,

that girl that no longer wants to be a player any more,
I don’t want to be a player anymore I just fck a lot,
no Big Pun intended but everything else I meant it,
writing this Love Letter on Valentine’s day with no where to send it.

Anyways I know that ex-player turned good girl exist,
and she feels just like I do in this exact instant,
she’s somewhere alone paying off her debt,
for all the guy’s who’s hearts she broke even though she never meant it,

and now,
she feels like I do like ditto,
tired of playing the field,
just looking for a solo love that can be true like bingo ,

and one day we’ll meet,
and we’ll probably get married but no kiddos,
because 2’s a company but 3’s a crowd,
and that’s one thing that both of us still know,

that’s why I write this out loud with,
the hopes that she’ll find these words right wherever she is,
and she’ll find me somehow from this love letter,
like a message in a bottle sent from an island and found by a ship,

and when we finally meet it will be love at first kiss,

this,
is what I hope for,
no more promiscuous ***,
nope no way no more,

I’m a born again ******,
holding out until I finally meet that Apple of my eye,
and until then,
I’m not dating anyone no way no how nope no Valentine,

because I don’t deserve one,
won’t until I’ve paid off this debt in full,
for every good girl that I’ve ever left,
still hold no regrets even though I’m lonely as Hell,

so I likely have a few more heartbreaks headed my way,
because I’m not yet done paying off this debt,

and I’ll pay,
and I’ll pay,
and I’ll pay,
I’ll pay until there’s nothing left,

until I’m totally spent,

but until that time I’m alone,
once again,
faced with my own thoughts,
and the deafening sounds of this silent hotel room…

∆ Aaron La Lux ∆

Free download of the new book here: www.scribd.com/document/367036005/The-Sydney-Sessions-12-Steps