Trip Number Three

by Hannah Lizette   Jul 7, 2012


As his calloused fingers pluck his vintage Gibson guitar,
his passion poured with each single verse,
mesmerized by his sultry, deep voice,
I caught myself focusing on his lips.

I feel like a groupie pleading for an encore,
however I need to keep my distance,
he is my heroine,
I constantly jones for more.

As quickly as he ends,
he begins with a familiar tune,
how could he spot me in such a crowded room?
Our song is blasting through the speakers,
the vibrations shattering every inch of hope I had picked up from the last trip.

Oh, my heart is so vulnerable.

I lust after
every syllable,
every note,
every chord.

They are the pathway that guides me back into his arms,
his heart,
his life.

Can I handle just one more trip?

Copyright 2012: Hannah K.

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Latest Comments

  • 10 years ago

    by Midnight Sky

    Nice poem but it need a pop to it or more flavor something

  • 11 years ago

    by A Poets Handwriting aka ALISHA

    Love is a drug. This you have perfectly ascertained.

    Again, you're imagery is flawless. It's as if the reader is there, is you; thinking these thoughts, seeing him play... you describe the scene so well.

    I loved how in the last few stanzas you chose to limit your syllables and it has such impact! Well done!

    5/5

  • 11 years ago

    by Omar

    Wow, i think you actually have a talent.
    I loved it :)

  • 11 years ago

    by Lioness

    Oh I love this one, you are definitely an awesome poet with great skills!!!

    I love guitars, I've always wanted to learn that as well as drums. I agree that love is a drug and it can completely take us over emotionally and physically.

    Awesome write

    x

  • 11 years ago

    by Thomas

    Loving someone is such a drug

    every smile to throw at you is like a needle in your arm that gives you that warm feeling deep inside of you

    5/5

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