You are Egyptian cotton, warm, soft & inviting. You carry the scents of the after fall of rain & sweet pricey chocolate. You are concert tickets to a favorite band with backstage passes. You have the elegance of designer dresses. You are the brandy and fine wine that brings together people of class and dignity. You are phone calls, late at night, from a voice so soothing you never want it to be morning. You are holding hands and cherishing one another. You are the bright, beautiful bounce in a baby girl. You are the jokes that people can’t stop laughing at. You are the finest silk handmade in the streets of Thailand. Everyone wants a piece of you and there is nothing better than to feel you upon their skin.

I am none of those things. I am scratchy fabrics and party fouls, poverty & alcoholics with ugly baby boys. I am not someone anyone like you would think to love. I really couldn’t blame you, because with this wool & my sensitive skin.I even repulse myself.