The Taste of Jealousy She's practically moved in. Her clothes in your kitchen, worn sandals lying beside a faded Bob Marley shirt. Her music on your computer. "Come here" she says "I bet you would like this song." I take another sip of my orange juice staring blankly pretending to listen, and she takes another sip of wine. Its gross you know, the way she has these stars in her eyes looking at me like she's so in love with you, and with each sip of the orange juice i hold in my hand i purse my...

The windows were crossed with wooden bars, and the glass in between them was spotted with paint and had places that waved instead of being seemless and smooth. It's strange how the windows are what I remember most. I think it's because I drew them, that day that it was raining and we ran into the gallery. The back right corner was your spot. A small desk that was covered in doodles and dreams, and the paintings that contained all of your energy hung on the walls. I crawled up the ladder that ...

Today, i felt the softness of my skin while running my hands under the water. Forming them in the shape of a round cup, I collected the liquid and splashed it on my face, Dispersing memories of the nasty fight. It is me that the water will forgive. It is funny that to forgive someone you must first skin your own problems to the bones and lay your own fight aside. You must be much like the water, constantly flowing, and then you face the fact that nothing in life is yours to cup. I went from t...