(A throw-back piece, a breakup poem from high school)
What a lonely, peculiar, eccentric figure I must be. A girl, in a garden, crying at an iPad, in the dark.
Earlier, at school...
It was a clear spelling out, like steel cuts thru fruit.
As he spoke, he looked down and away, his gorgeous face blank and indifferent, as if I were wasting his time or he was talking to a child needing an obvious truth taught quickly.
When he finally looked back at me, I saw no pity in his impersonal, hazel eyes.
I couldn't breathe, I couldn't think, I needed time to contemplate the universe's new laws.
Can a girl just suddenly die of heartache?? because I was sure my heart had stopped, locked and frozen.
Finally, I gasped in this impossible new air—the force of it made me hold the cold-iron stair railing—the game is rough.
He's so—male—all chase and careless passion—intelligent teaser, a skilled steersman of excited climates... Oh, you simply have no idea.
And now he was, gone—still there physically—but gone to me—as if he'd transformed into a hologram or had begun to orbit some other sun, he just...
"You made me feel special." I said.
I had lost my balance on this faithless and unequal world, where heaven so cruelly punishes desires.
"You made me feel I mattered, such a favor." I said, absentmindedly, as I turned, and went back up the three steps into school.
I don't think I looked back at him as the door closed. After all, he wasn't there anymore.
I think he called my name, like a question...
.
.
Song for this:
Still Is Still Moving to Me (with Willie Nelson) by ***** & The Maytals
Helpless by The Cleaners From Venus