Kitten Rose

Nostalgia is pure liquid sugar through your veins,
It's something I can never obtain,
Always wanting more,
They say we're cold to the core,
Gray t-shirts always slipping into the closet floor,
Making it hard to shut the door,
The fan never seems quite right,
Nor the flickering light,
I look at old shadow photos,
I look at the baby's toes,
Vivid color lampshades,
How the black curtains make the sun rays fade,
Something of a chair crowded living room scene,
Even though you're the only one clean,
A weird minty taste in your mouth still lingers,
You hear the birds and the noise bringers,
You sigh as soft as a kitten rose,
You left the butterfly effect on your nose.