She reached over to the glove box and grabbed the orange CD binder holding her favorite albums. In an era where Bluetooth and USB cords connected us to an app filled with endless artists, she preferred to hear an album from the intro to the last song. As an artist herself, she knew that the album as a whole contained a message that could only be heard when played as a whole. Like a visit to the op...

They say forgiveness is a virtue, but I’d rather keep my anger.

Forgiving you would likely put a girl like me in danger.

The slippery lips and fingertips that push me to the edge.

Then cry your woes, deny your blows, and make your final pledge.

What good will virtues do me when I cry myself to sleep?

You’re snoring sounds on peaceful grounds; I barely make a peep.

The time ticks by, and I can feel...