Jaz Persing is a writer, singer, and human living in Los Angeles. She works in television when she can. The rest of the time she’s just looking for a dare-to-be-great situation, hoping she can put a good dent in the world with the mess of broken love, vulnerability, and words she has. In the meantime, she’s immensely grateful for God and the many good people around her that make it all seem feasible.

Severing Thread

There’s a weight at the bottom of my soul.
There’s just a little too much lately
I wish I could love without fear
Without the protective ice coating
I cannot accept the reality of a motherless life
But that horizon keeps moving
And there’s something realer about it today
And I can’t press back on the advent of life
And new life
And terror of holding within
And of letting go
And how deep and wide is my capacity to kill and destroy
And would this all be because there’s a gaping chasm that begs for love in me
That if you can’t give I will tear away
Reciprocated love may lift this weight
But not the kind I think
So much of the timeline sped up
“That’s a lot,” they say
But will it ever not be? Is this simply the state of being I will always be in
I’m doing too much too fast
My body, my soul
Requests a slowdown
But this corporeal lasts only a moment
And death looming makes you wonder about the bare minimums
What do you want this life to have been about?
What do you want her to see
To see with her
You wanted her to stop worrying
And now she has
And you see it’s a gift that won’t last
And you stop being being mature about this
I have tired once again of being a sensible adult.
I tried to stop talking about it
Because I’m accustomed to a very subtle knack for spin
This doesn’t work for that
I cannot pull off this con
You and I both know it
And I think of the three or four embraces I want to fall into
Who can love me this much?


March Ides