Carly

Broken Dawns

 

Four am starts and broken hearts go hand in hand with one another. Bound to each other. Enclosed in a silent embrace that evaporates the rest of the world. Stillness bleeds through dawn that has barely caressed the horizon with her fingertips. No softness of lips motioning against your cupids bow or beating pulse alongside your ear. Just solitary tears that you and Mother Nature have in common before the wake of bustlings become apparent thorough the delicate melody of birdsong. Belonging only in thought that sails beside the gentle whoosh of cars in the distance. My mind is there. Perhaps my soul, too. Breathing in those lapsed moments of endless yearning. The railway tracks await passengers on trains to break through the fog. A veil that’s hauntingly beautiful to witness before the droplets are drawn ever closer back to the sun in streams of honey dew transparency. Subtle glistening that chimes with the breeze, sweeping away the debris of yesterday. Makeshifts of gifted renewal draped in the promise of life presenting itself as sky. Gravel yet to be upturned by tyres heading back home. Crossings that paint the road as dominoes wearing the prints of invisible footsteps. Footsteps that held the bodies of many lonely individuals. Individuals just like you and me. Sat awake with elbows resting on flat surfaces. Searching for a warmth that can’t be found in mug of tea. Four am whispers of silent plea. Envisioning realities that can not be.. can not be..