I want to like her work,
I do! I do!
The letters on the page
The words off her tongue
They sing like twenties blues.
But
Jealousy is not that different from heroin.
It shoots up into my brain,
sparking fire in the darkest corners of my mind.
It clamps my hands over my ears
clouds my head up with a vengeance.
And suddenly, her words are tone-deaf
I hate them.
