“What was once a sign of hope, a shooting star, ‘Maybe we elope’”
Shooting star, increasing its distance from me,
in the darkness of the night sky,
I lie awake, unblinking and unyielding,
I struggle, I reminisce on the mistakes.
The crashing of waves, the destruction of love,
The empty promises, the tide approaching shore,
Only to be retracted and washed away instead,
back towards the darkness of the abyss,
A mess of rhythmic uniformity.
Sure, there’s lots of stars in the night sky,
‘Plenty of fish in the sea’,
But you seemed like,
Just ‘the one for me’.
What was once as soft and enveloping,
As fresh snow upon the mountain,
Slowly gave way,
To melt instead,
Developing into a corrosive force of water,
Slowly eroding whatever is in its path.
What was once a sign of hope,
a shooting star,
‘Maybe we elope’,
Instead becomes a mere passing glimmer,
Of what could have been.
The love that burns brightest,
The star that burns fastest,
To fall into a doomed love.
The risks we take,
When we wish upon a shooting star.
Childhood dreams,
Adult realities,
The entropy of relationships,
Love lived and love lost,
Constantly moving towards a state of disorder,
Fading, fading,
Gone.
Words and photography by Jesse Neill
More from Edition 20
Tolkein vs Pratchett
How do authors create the fascinating worlds that their stories inhabit? Read on for a short insight. The following short piece …
Identity
Circumference of ideas Splash of colours Little quirks The things that make me That hold me steady Smudge the words on that letter Can …
The Death of Alexander Hamilton
West Bank of the Hudson River, New Jersey, 11th July 1804. I turned to see my friend of more than twenty …
