Wishing on a Broken Star

Some poems live loudly. Others live quietly in your notes or the back of a journal until you're finally ready to share them.

I wrote Wishing on a Broken Star back in 2022. It was a slow aching kind of poem that came out all at once, and then just sat with me. For a long time.

In early 2023, it won a writing contest through Word in Motion hosted by WBRL. I was grateful. But I didn’t post it or perform it. I guess I wasn’t hiding it; I just wasn’t ready. Some poems are like that. They feel too close, too raw. You write them down, but you're still 'feeling through them' inside; which may sound confusing but makes sense to me.

Even though I wrote it from a place of distance and silence and space... I still believed in the wish. And just because I was wishing on a broken star…it was still a star.

I still need to update my portfolio on the site, but perhaps I will start sharing them more as each "feels" right. Here is the poem:

Wishing on a Broken Star

That shooting star that you wished on, wasn’t even there…

Wishes only arrive light years later, but they make you hope and care.

If you left your own world sometime, I think you would like it up here…

There is no one to impress, or fear.

Since sound cannot survive in space, living without my voice…

might make it your favorite place.

There is no one to find me or hear me scream.

But for now, I just wait in the sky and barely orbit your mind…

like a broken starry dream.