My heart picks its pace
My vision looks like lace
My hands trembling
My insides fluttering
My eyes, fingers, skin
Twitching, shaking, prickling
You're standing there
Right in front of me
My orbs like what they see
Your sight tickles my bloodstream
Plays on the fine strings of my heart
Melodic harmonies are created
Rhythmic sounds soothing my ears
In my stomach the butterflies are pulled apart
Swirling around in my veins, elated
I gulp suddenly feeling thirsty
My mouth dry
My tongue numb
I am shy
My cheeks are turning red
Right inside my head
The brain starts its game
Urging my thoughts to go down the memory lane
To that one moment
It was back in the summer
Under the moonlight
And the stars that glitter
When you finally saw me
And did a move
I still remember the chills that ran down my spine
I still remember the taste of your lips on mine
How we clicked
And how it worked
I still smile big
Oh how divine!
I still can't explain what I truly felt that time
When your thumb caressed my cheek
Your hazel eyes looked into my soul
Burned my fears to ashes
Melted my worries
With only a flutter from your lashes
You were so beautiful
It hurt my vision
You were so sweet
It pulled me down
Down down down
Till I found myself drowning
In a pond of innocent love
And I can't swim!
I open my eyes
Suddenly feeling like choking
I drew your attention
Now your eyes are set on me
Oh do you remember me
Or do you not?
Was I just a fling
Or was I not?
At times like these
The surroundings just freeze
I'm mesmerized
More like hypnotized
A simple gesture from you can break me or mend me
Can soothe me or slap me
A light so bright
Blinded my sight
A hand so soft
Pulled on my lips
Drawing a curve opened upwards
I was smiling from ear to ear
When I noticed you my dear
Smiling down at me
Acknowledgement shining on your facade
You remembered me
Oh sigh
He does remember me
**
YOU ARE READING
The inner voice
PuisiA collection of some of my poems :) **Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words ~ Robert Frost Poetry is the rhythmical creation of beauty in words ~ Edgar Allan Poe Painting is silent poetry and poetry is paint...
