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.

No Defense

I’d stop by and say hello but I’m too busy defending you for murder
“He’s got so much on his plate right now”
I swear under oath
When did they stop meaning something?

What were and are all these yeses and nos and keeping me posted
Posted to a wallflower waiting stage
And it’s no reveal anymore
Everyone around me can see the chains
I hand you the keys every single day
Then I scratch out in count on the cell wall

And yet none of these crimes
Even the ones that I wail and scream and curse you for through tears
None make you a criminal to me
Nothing I do can quite erase the clarity with which I see

A small, scared boy
Trying to father a small boy
Who has yet to learn that brand of fear
And you weren’t ready, but from this fate
You have already saved him

And I can’t stop myself from loving you for that
And I hate myself a little for knowing that it takes all the love you can muster
To save him in this way
Leaving no love left for me
But I want it anyway

Is there no growth of heart possible?
Don’t I stake all my claims on some kind of transformative healing
When does our dust
Turn into beautiful things?
Or is that a gift reserved for the one who comes after me?

Can I ever forgive the fact of how it all settles
Or would you never have been able to see me
As anything but someone you were letting down?

I can’t say this is untrue
Because it’s why my nails are breaking
With the ferocity at which I hammer
Fighting not to check my phone, and there I just did

Is there any light at the end of the stretch of dark tunnel
That was born of believing that if I want you, if I love you,
If I find myself happy at all
Surely it will end

Or is it sometimes just this question into the void—
How are you so much better and so much worse
Than every man I know?

I make these inquiries into your humanity
Demanding reason
Though I possess no reason or defense for my own

Yes, I believe in love
The kind that blows pages like this out of the water
But I can’t hear that voice, I can’t make old truth
Tie a bow around this monster

So I’m just typing and breaking
And asking to be held
And found
Somewhere before this page ends




To My Love, on the Eve of the Super Blue Blood Lunar Eclipse

Subway Song