The music starts.The violin plays on the strings of your heart.
You can already feel it.
His low, deep voice fills your body.
The chorus begins, and you can't bear the emotion.
All else is forgotten but the man behind it all.
His smooth face, mysterious smile, and the deepest of eyes.
His voice runs through you,
making your heart stop, and your body tremble.
He tortures you, he is only a voice, but you can feel so much more.
His lips on you as he speaks his words so passionately.
His breath in your ear as he whispers the words you so desperately want to hear.
Your heart beating to the rhythm that he provides.
The warmth of his skin as he draws you near.
It stops.
It fades.
It leaves your body as quickly as it came,
and you feel so deprived.
His voice is gone.
His touch. His warmth. The comfort only he could provide.
All you have left are the unmade memories, floating loosely around in your head,
falling out of your eyes.
And you feel empty and alone all over again.
Wishing the silence would end, and his voice would begin.
Saw your post in the coffeeshop. I like your poem, I think it is really good. I definitely know the feeling and the comparison to a song is great. Just wish that there was a repeat option on some things.
ReplyDeleteNice blog!
Ha thanks :D
ReplyDeleteWhat do you mean repeat option?
Good god i love your writing! The flow of your words and your rhyming schemes! So much about it! Is there a musician inside of you at all?!
ReplyDeleteHaha why thank you :] and maybe a small one? I've had a few people read some poems of mine and they ask if they're anthems or lyrics to a song.
ReplyDeleteOf course! And you should try putting those words into a melody. It just might turn out even prettier than it already is!
ReplyDeleteWell I have a few friends who play instruments, maybe they could help if I decide to do it.
ReplyDelete