Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
How could I forget that accident,
Which made us feel like we are meant,
We both underestimated each other,
This paved the way for us to walk together,
After that everyday was full of confessions,
Every hug, Every cuddle, Every moment was mixed with passions,
Your smile was what I wanted to see everyday,
For that I always had to find a way,
Those small wounds would make you worry,
And then I would be in your arms for you to carry,

But how could I forget that accident,
Where you forget me and went,
I alone got tortured living those memories,
Remembering every of your chivalry,
It is pain to see you too close but too far,
Like fighting alone a war,
In your eyes I am now a stranger,
In your path and life I've become a hinder,
Now I realize how your love was no less than a poison,
For that how you chose me to be the one,
It is pain that I wear behind this smile,
But you wouldn't stop to look at it for a while,
Now everything has changed including you,
Wish I had never met you.
Long after I have given up,
my heart searches for you without my permission.
-Rudy Francisco
DeVaughn Station Mar 2020
I wear too many long sleeves,
and my eyes are just red from allergies.
I’m always somewhat full even though
the weight keeps dropping and my
stomach protests. I was going to stay in
anyways and that beer was just for the chili.
The weird smell in the air is just from the neighbors.
It’s just water in my bottle and that rattle
was just from some bath salts. I use those lighters
just for work, yes, I was just on the phone with my boss.
The music is loud just for the ambiance.
My face is just puffy in the mornings
and I was up late last night just playing some games.
Those fans are just because it’s hot up here
and that bag has just pens in it.
January 11, 2019: I want to keep this one simple. Sloth is so easy and simple.
Carlo C Gomez Mar 2020
Tell me your secrets
unofficially
surreptitiously
on the quiet

whisper the unknown
off the record
behind closed doors
on the sly

between you and me
in camera
sub rosa
entre nous

let me be your one and only
melancholy Jan 2020
Confessions:

They weren't created

To make us sound cool

Or look pretty.


They were meant

To make us taste the blood

That we never shed.


They aren't always

As simple as perfume-scented love-notes

Slipped nervously into the hands

Of someone you hardly know.


They can be as dire

As the details

That spill from an honest criminal's lips

Proving his guilt

Sickening the jury

Allowing the clarity of a set date

On which the monster will be slain.


They aren't something

We can stand to dissect too much

Once we have them all written down.

All they're going to do

Is tarnish the world's perception of us, anyway.

Why worry about our syntax?


They weren't made

For jokes

Or church

Or truth-or-dare

Or poetry.

Perhaps they were made

Simply for the dark, scarce rooms

That are the minds

Of cowards.


Confessions

Taste of bitterness

Sting like salt in a wound

Have all the power

To tear a person's whole **** world apart

With a gesture as small

As a nod of one's head.


They're the things we wish we could forget

The big mistakes

That make us want to pour ourselves

A large glass of Selective Memory

And settle in for the evening.


And, in order to get them off of her chest

A trembling poet

With the roar of a lion

And the heart of a scaredy-cat

Will wrap them all up in metaphor

Until she barely recognizes them

Then feed them to the dogs

That make up the rest of the world

For dinner.
Robby Nov 2019
I’m a coward
A liar
An adulterer
A fool
No one cares
Why should they
Paint my name in the skies
Turn the world against me
Maybe I’ll just keep surviving
It’s the only thing I’ve ever done well
Even then just barely
Robby Nov 2019
Have you...

Held a stranger like your life depended on it?
Cried on the shoulders of someone you didn’t know?
Shown your dark soul to the world?
Kissed someone that you just met?
Given yourself to the person who didn’t deserve it?
Loved someone that didn’t or couldn’t return the sentiment?
Hurt so bad that you questioned if you’d die?

No not me… Not ever… you?

We’re both horrible liars.
Salsa AK Oct 2019
A dark rainy day
...light follows
As mortal clouds wash their sins away.
Aaron LaLux Oct 2019
She cries during ***,
in an attempt to express & address,
this set of collective regrets that’ve been suppressed,
ever since when she was first undressed & no one confessed,

I let her vent, give her room & hold space so she can process,

I suggest she take some deep breaths instead of stress,
still has some emotions left so I guess in a sense she’s blessed,
in a world that’s gone cold & everyone seems possessed,
people stumbling around like zombies in The Walking Dead,

no Norman Reedus or Andrew Lincoln features though,
just an aborted fetus & a broken heart seeking treatment,
which explains why she’s always willing to give guys a try,
& stay with them faithfully even when she’s mistreated,
& I’m willing to be crucified for the actions of other guys,
so I take her torment away & transform it like Jesus,
bare the weight of her loss like a cross then write the moments,
releasing the feelings in books since I’m a poet not a preacher,

not here for the heroics,
or other crowning moments or admirable achievements either,
so I’m on the down-low drinking hoping to go unnoticed,
at a bar on a barstool with a babe so hot I’ve got a fever,
we’re both discrete because we both need ****** healing,
& I promise her I’ll be here for her & not leave her,

until I get assassinated like Abe Lincoln at a theatre,

but she doesn’t believe the things I say about loyalty,
because she’s been betrayed before so she’s not too eager,
but hey I can’t blame her if I’d been through what she has,
I probably wouldn’t be eager to believe me either,
pause this’s getting too intense it’s time for an intermission,
I need to take a break so I can take a breather,

in a real life Soap Opera drama live on stage in Life’s theatre,
caught up in all the rawness of these women’s feelings,
one minute she’s laughing the next minute she’s crying,
she apologizes & I say she never has to apologize for feeling,

or make excuses to me or anyone else for her feelings,
I mean at least she still feels things,

even when those feelings open wounds that need healing,
lays her head one my shoulder, says she’s been ***** before,
so when I go rough in the sack with her she gets flashbacks,
& it’s hard to face facts that relate to what’s happened before,

I tell her it’s okay I tell her I’ll go slow we can take our time,
I tell her it’s ok to stay she’s safe, she can tell me anything,
I tell her sometimes it helps to open up & communicate,
but she just clams up & doesn’t say a thing,

so I get up to go shower,
to try & wash off the stress,
moments later she comes in & joins me,
somewhere between sedated & upset,

at a hotel somewhere in America,
a hotel they call boutique,
but it all feels haunted & a bit spooky if you ask me,
the wind howls, the windows rattle, & all the floors creak,

so I can’t help but get the creeps,
because this hotel feels more than just a little like me,
all dressed up nice, hip trendy on the outside,
but inside everything’s not at all what it seems,

haunted from the drama of these girls that were abused,
then used *** to transfer that abusive dark energy onto me,
which I guess I kinda deserve because I used to serve,
this sort of abuse to girls who were into me sexually,

you get what you give this is exactly what karma is,
so now I’m trying to help heal the Collective Feminine,
from all the damage that’s been previously done over lifetimes,
by the overly aggressive actions of the Collective Masculine,

so go ahead smash your conflicts into me I’m begging you,
drown me in the ocean of the tears of your traumas,
scream shout let it all out until there’s nothing left to let go of,
& I will still love you continually no menopause or commas,

I will always love you unconditionally continually,
no mental pauses or parental dramas,
you have been hurt before but you still have worth for sure,
no one’s pure but at least you’re honest & willing to work on it,

& it’s an honor to be here to hear & be your platform,
for you to express your regrets until there’s nothing left,
you are an incredible creation resilient & brilliant,
you’re worth it we’re out here when distressed I’ll be your outlet,

so you can vent the stress as you process,
even if part of that process involves crying during ***,
you’re worth it I’m here to hear everything you express,
a Living Light in this world of The Walking Dead,

so it’s totally okay to cry during *** go ahead,
especially if it’s an attempt to express & address,
the set of collective regrets that’ve you’ve suppressed,
ever since you were first undressed & no one confessed,

I’ll let you vent give you room
& hold space so you can process…

∆ LaLux ∆

from THHT3: The Hollywood Hills Trilogy 3
available worldwide.

If you enjoyed the poem message me directly and I'll send you a link so you can have the Kindle version of the book for FREE.
Another True Story...
Next page