As a woman with the hunger for music and love, I find myself unrequited these days. The music I seek fills me but not enough. The lovers I come across aren’t what I need. Shit gets in the way like bitch this, bitch that, dirty photos in retrospect. There’s a feeling that more needs to be done so presently I fill this space with poetry. For the future, I pray and push constantly. For the past, I study lyrics and journal entries. The soundtrack to this realm is produced by the industry, written for conformity.