here they come again, mocking me, dissing me, taking a jab, creeping onto me.   jealousy is a black and white game. to black, white always seems like a weakling. the sole purpose of black is to extend its callous ends, to consume the…

Observe the growth of the vine, To understand what little time We have, under this burning sun, For soon you shall see none. The years shall steal your health and vigour, Weaken bones and diminish your figure. But before you succumb to your earthly grave,…

I had a roommate once she had skin like caramel and she liked to tell us stories   One day after dinner we asked why she’d rather sit on the pavement to knit while we drowned our sorrows in wine   She smiled like the…