Diwali

loneliness is a bitter thing. especially when the rest of the world is celebrating and you can't. especially when the person who has ripped your heart and slammed it down the gutter and then stamped it for a while is celebrating. and you are not.

fireworks. indeed. in my belly, in my heart, in my soul. fireworks. sure. the kind that seer your skin and make it into pulp. i'm sure he would vouch that blood is tasty, that carnivore-cannibal.