Rejection

requiem for a broken heart

I know rejection like I know my hand

In all its abstract linear design:

My life is long, my love is pure and grand,

My luck, however, barely marks its line,

As I’m not any girl’s nor is she mine.

 

The breaking ice sends us into the water,

Where merrily we wade towards the shore.

Yet steadily she sets me for the slaughter:

A sapphic word and gesture out the door,

While I’m a writhing mess upon the floor.

 

And even if there’s hope within the air

That love would light the caverns of our eyes,

Despite assurance of no wear or tear,

The silence grows and I with soulful sighs

Still wallow in a sea of whats and whys.

 

I know rejection like I know my hand-

Much have I felt its sting upon my spine.

Now day by day I wander through the land

And wonder whether I would ever shine

If I’m not any girl’s and she's not mine.

-EDP

Reviews

[Li]

Knowing rejection so well then expecting and not fearing it. Maybe that's good, maybe that's bad but you portrayed that feeling so well emipoemi!

[emipoemi]

Thank you! Glad you enjoyed it

[bigfootprint]

Love this, emipoemi. You prove once again heart-ripping rejection can be manageable when kept in a philosophical perspective. Never having dabbled in such sapphic privacies, I still appreciate that rejection is equally discomfiting in cross-section. The graphic moments you weave so masterfully while maintaining aplomb help keep the setting wrapped in abject denial. It is not a flameout if you never launch. Everyone gets excited sometimes, usually in one-sided thrust and double-edged parry. In love, crime, and politics, the whys and whats are elementary. -- Doug

[emipoemi]

Thank you so much! I do what I can to keep my head high on this battlefield. Glad you enjoyed it.