when you walked into the room, there was a sudden bloom—
of emotion in me, it can't be butterflies,
it feels like the skies—
are restless and they're falling down,
like the men that are falling down—
at your feet like loyal subjects, worshipping you like you're a creature from outer space.
and every single guy,
is getting pulled towards you, you're a black hole sucking us all in—
i'd be stuck in a time loop, if i travel back in time,
to before you became the talk of the town, cause i'd try and try until i make you mine.
flirting from across the room,
embers of fire enflaming your heart doors,
i'd burn my hands in opening them, if i have to—
i think it should show the lengths, i'm willing to go,
and my heart's rate is going in harder,
like the drummers of my heartbeat have started panicking,
not saying any words, but we're flirting from across the room.
i don't like alcohol,
but i don't mind getting drunk on your—
smile, it makes me say the darndest things,
i want this to mean more than my past flings.
so can i have your number?
this sensual waltz doesn't have to end at dinner,
and your ball gown might not be a flowing dress,
yet folks keep tripping all over you, like fallen chess—
pieces, i'd make do with stolen kisses,
under the willows of oak trees,
take my hands they might be trembling,
but it's proof of the electricity, coursing through my veins,
so when we touch—we trigger an electromagnetic pulse.
flirting from across the room,
crackles of fire burning the space between us,
cause of the fire in my eyes, it can't be quelled by mere water,
and my heart's rate is going in harder,
like the drummers of my heartbeat have started panicking,
not saying any words, but we're flirting from across the room.
called you last night and it went straight to voice mail,
it feels like a hailstorm in my head, wondering why you won't pick up i'm down and pale—
with pent up emotions, stronger than the currents of the ocean,
still i'd be waiting till you come surfing again.
YOU ARE READING
musings of a jaded poet
Poézialike the title implies, 'musings of a jaded poet', comes from a jaded, hurt heart but it'd be folly to think this album is all doom and gloom. before the dark, there was light and it's a journey-a tale that needs to be told. the tragedy of how this...
