Light's Early Dawn

oh dream, america, dream. i can't even sleep from the light's early dawn.

she’s in a million different pieces

that never even fit together.

she’s got purple bruises under her jigsaw eyes

from sleepless nights, waiting for him

to remember

her.

her lips are bitter and sweet and untouched,

and they've forgotten how to smile.

she’s a shooting star,

drifting lonely across the light.

 

she doesn't want to remember,

but her heart’s a broken record.

she can’t forget that she’s the one

who tore herself to pieces.

she knows that she’s the one

who kept herself awake.

she’s well aware that it’s her own mind

that echoes her hurt back to her.

she’s a shooting star,

drifting lovely across the night.

 

she’s lost her voice,

lost the sweet words

that used to linger in her eyes.

she’s like a book with too many empty pages,

both waiting for the moment when and afraid that

someone will want to write in it someday.

she wants to wave this town goodbye,

find her way away, free from gravity,

but there’s always something

pulling her back down to earth.

she’s a drifting star,

shooting lovely across the blank and empty.

 

she cries to remember

when happiness was as easy as the golden summertime,

when light and color blended into a worn beauty

that could always make her heart skip.

[but what good is a girl who has lost her smile?]

she’s a silent songbird.

she misses the feel of air beneath her wings,

but she’s forgotten how to fly.

[what good is a bird that won’t sing?]

 

she’s afraid of being alone,

afraid of what the night can do.

she’s afraid of the silence,

afraid that it will scream the truth to her.

she’s wants more than a life worth living,

more than just another sweet goodbye.

she’s a lonely star, sick of sadness,

shooting lovely across the wide open.

 

she’s looking for closure,

a finale to this tragedy.

she’s tired of doubting herself,

tired of lying awake,

waiting for him to remember.

[all she wanted was to be wanted.]

all she knows is that she’s hurtling through space,

towards a hidden end, towards freedom.

but she’s too scared to let go of her pain, of her fear,

because the hurt is the only thing

that reminds her she’s alive.

she’s a wandering star with a fear of falling,

tumbling wide-eyed into the void.

 

she lies awake,

in the black and blue,

to forget the times

when she held the world between her fingers.

when her dreams are what reality lied,

she holds herself together with gasping breaths.

she’s scared little girl,

trembling when she looks in the mirror

and doesn't recognize the ghost that stares back.

she holds her hurt between her grasping fingers,

exquisitely aching, the artwork of agony.

she falls asleep to forget the pain,

softly screaming, constantly consuming.

she’s never felt so hollow.

she’s a lonely star, half-sick of shadows,

hurtling silently into the unknown.

 

because he’s the one

who put those choking words in her head.

he’s the one who said he wanted to be her gravity,

to hold her

[wanted to hold her together]

when her normal was falling apart.

but now he’s the one who feeds the hollowness in her,

who holds her at a purposeful distance

and lets her drift away.

cause she thought he would be the one to pull her back together,

but she must have missed the part when he said

he would only stick around long enough

for first place to want him back.

[she always said she was second best,

but he said, ‘don’t kid yourself.’]

 

she’s a lonely canary

with broken, useless wings--

a falling star,

plummeting to the earth.

[and he’s the one who pushed her.]

Author's Note

starting to blur the lines between real and reality.

checklist-
format. too long? too short?
content. too cliche? unique?
words. overused? too repetitive?
imagery. vibrant? accessible?
storyline. coherent? too obscure?

Reviews

[Alana McGuire]

I'm so very glad that you entered this in my contest because I loved reading it over and over again. It's definitely not too long or too cliche. The emotions and imagery are beautiful and heart breaking, and I really don't think they come off as cliche. And the story line is captivating and wonderful. I love this so much. :)

[Bridgette's Ink]

This is beautiful, putting it in my favorites. Pat yourself on the back because this was so enchanting and lovely. :)

[Alysa]

You write beautifully. I've never seen this type of format and content. You're absolutely amazing.

[Miss Marie Riorden.]

I don't think poetry needs to have lines to cut it. Restrain it. It should be from the heart and this , well this, certainly is. It's a very characteristic poem that ironically reminds me of myself. Very unique and unlike others I have read. Not that that's bad. The repitition in this poem was well used and I think added to how the poem was wrote. Making it beautiful. The imagery was amazing seeing as how you could almost feel what that girl was feeling. How lonely she must have been. How hard it is to obscure her own feelings. Storyline. Not like I've ever seen this. It's unique to itself. It's coherant enough for me to understand and the flow kept it going right.

With care,
-Marie-
P.S. I feel like the girl in that poem, is indeed me.

[David Michael]

William, thanks for submitting this in the Lyrical Alliteration contest. I wish I could have picked it, as it's a nice poem, but unfortunately it doesn't really use alliteration at all, except incidentally. Also, it's a bit long. I agree with a below comment - I think it could be cut down and still retain its beauty. In fact, making it shorter would likely enhance it. As one who tends to be too verbose, I've had to learn the hard way the importance of succinctness. And in poetry, it's indispensable. But the actual content was quite captivating. Despite its length, I actually read most of it. And I like the constant repeat of "She's a shooting star" and its later variations, along with the altered line following it - it really enhances the poem. So despite not "winning", good job!

[Muse]

What a haunting and beautiful poem. I don't think it's too obscure, maybe alittle redundant at times, but very well done.

[Miss Coral]

I remember reading this on DA. I meant to comment, but completely forgot, which I deeply regret. Everytime I read something new by you, I remember just how much I love your work; this wasn't an exception, at all.

I wouldn't say that poems CAN be too long, unless of course, they aren't concise. This one had parts that could probably be cut and still have the quality and emotion of the poem remain. The words themselves could use some originality in some parts-- bits and pieces of your diction are too often associated with your subject. Try introducing new flavors and metaphors, because you're excellent at that. The imagery is vibrant and lovely and draws in the reader magnificently. It's also accessible, though it's not YOUR job to make sure that it's accessible, it's our job to use our brains. Storyline isn't obscure at all.

Lovely, William. Lovely.