Wednesday, June 6, 2012

who is going to love you, my darling? said he with a calm smile on his face. you're a fastidious, capricious person. the fat bird that sings early in the morning dies right after her job is done, and there is nobody to weep the loss. do you know why it is so, honey? because no matter how sweet its song is, or how pretty the stare in the small brown eyes, the fat bird doesn't understand what love is. the fat bird speaks when unasked, shouts instead of whispering, laughs loudly instead of gently smiling.
so who will love you little girl? who will fight for you?