Now to put it plainly,
I don't believe in reincarnation.
Nor any other form of after life.
I will be dirt.
You will be dirt.
We're all just ******* dirt.
However,
this leaves me vexed.
For I feel the most nostalgia,
towards things I have never experienced.
Music from the 1920's
to the 1950's,
makes me yearn for days,
I never had.
I only feel empathy for war veterans,
some part of me feels the pain.
Maybe I'm wrong,
or perhaps just strange;
who knows?

I love you.
Not your frills that could ****.
Or poka dot bullet holes color cordinated with skill

I love you
Not for your heart of gold or skin of silk
Not for your eye lashes or peircings, real or fake

I love you
Not because of who you are
But because of what you are.
Mine.

If I shall grow old.
And my clothes hang like ghosts
Just know that once apon a time
I could fit inside my skin

There is a time when too much
affection wells up inside me
And I become rude and mean
For fear it will all drain out at
The slightest word