he had a party tonight. a love party.
for the woman he loved.
the woman he loved was not there.
she was in texas or some other state that is not pennsylvania.
it was her birthday.
she did not love him.
she does NOT love him.
SHE DOES NOT LOVE HIM.
he made his friends sing happy birthday
and they sang with all their lungspace and all their hearts the
song. happy birthday song. and he sang loud, too.
not loudest, but loud.
they were there, his friends, and they sang for his
brokenness and his stupidness.
they loved him for it and he loved their love but he
did not feel any love other than the love
for the woman
who did not love him.
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3 comments:
i read both of these last night at like 4 AM listening to hum and i still had the flower behind my ear. i fucking loved both this and the most recent LYOL.
i don't know what lyol means. oh. last year of life. i am not the author of last year of life.
Speaking of flower...
I brought two home and now I have three. Maybe the love was stronger than I thought.
Poor Jonathan. What a lucky dude.
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