heart lorn

love sick
world worn
love lorn
page torn and turning torn
the lazy snow flies sideways slow
like molecules
and my stomach burns low, a bit, still, for the aching heartbreak
i went through 4 days ago.

bodily and psychological. i can hardly believe it
and i give up one tiny and golden very long thread of hope
and that is all.
the rest is business as usual, cruel and blind life doing it's thing
regardless of my blazing heart undaring.

and i guess i write this down to heal, but writing, art
seem foolish or useless in the days since.
i just want to speak to people with whom i've been silent with, angry with.
i want to tell more people i love them and that i'm nothing.
i want to not be alone, i want to talk on the telephone, i want to sing so
i can be beautiful,
but i've been singing my pain for days,
picking other human's lyrics and making my own distant and aching hazing.

now i picture scenes that come unbidden of fields and streets and cities
we've walked around in,
laid down in,
felt each other within
and it burns very hard and the mending is slow because it has made me feel
uglier and fatter and more undesirable than you know
i've felt in a little while.

i've been drinking but not out of control.
everything tastes like shit but i'm still eating,
and i'm keeping busy but it's through an un-teary gaze
that feels very clear and real and sick.

love and lorn
heart torn, world weary
and very scorned
the lazy snow flies sideways slow
and i want to give this to her as an indictment
or a spell that will show her that the way i feel is the only way;
that i'm full of heart and hope and funniness and power
sitting across her at a pub table somewhere.

i'm tired of not being in control of this sort of pain.
i'm tired of giving up and letting life tear into me like cellophane.
i think of time that will heal all wounds and i want to put a wound in time
so sick am i
of time.
i want to punch or throw up.
i spend myself on thoughts of anyone but her just to stop thinking,
to feel something different wash over me for a few sinking seconds.
i am very ordinary. very ordinary and quite, quite common.
nothing's going to work out
and the ol' phone (which i never want to ring)
isn't going to ring.

 

jessy kendall -- jan. 11th, '08- saturday.