It's that feeling in your chest, when you are reading,
Or when you are seeing something that resonates you, or fits perfectly with what you have,
It's this feeling that convinced me of past lives.
When your boyfriend who is a total druggie,
Always looking for a high,
Loving the metal that runs through his blood and calls to his ears,
The loud music of that sweet guitar riff that calls him,
It's in the moments where he shyly sings to himself,
In these moments when he blushes from something that should be normal for him,
The moments when he almost purrs as if he is your own,
That you love him.
It's a scary feeling,
Although something that warms you,
To see the younger self of a star staring straight at you,
With the long hair,
The crazy way he goes about life,
That shakes you and wakes you up every morning,
And keeps you up talking to him,
He enjoys the pain of his life,
And wears it like the leather pants he will wear,
He enjoys the dirt life has buried him under,
And he lives every moment he can,
Even when he cries in my arms about his past,
He wouldn't change it for me.
Not my Tommy Lee.