Stars shine down from the black
And we’re picking through the broken glass
Well how could we know our lives
would be so full of beautifully broken things
A warning sign
It came back to haunt me, and I realised
That you were an island and I passed you by
And you were an island to discover
Come on in
I’ve gotta tell you what a state I’m in
I’ve gotta tell you in my loudest tones
That I started looking for a warning sign
I am waiting for something to go wrong
I am waiting for familiar resolve
I am waiting for another repeat
Another diet fed by crippling defeat
And I am waiting for that sense of relief
I am waiting for you to flee the scene
As if you held in your hand the smoking gun
And on the floor lay the one you said you loved
I can see the light come peering through the sky in my mind
Closing people come in but also lying on the floor
I would hold you in my arms until we both are home
I would hold you in my arms until we both are all alone
Hand over my mouth; I’m earning the right to my silence.
In quiet, discerning between ego and timing.
Good judgment is once again proving to me
that it’s still worth it’s weight in gold.
From now on I’m gonna be so much more wary when you start to speak
and my warm blood starts to boil,
that seeing you is like pulling teeth and hearing your voice is like
chewing tin foil.
Come inside look around
I lift you off the ground
Snapped your ribs made a lover
So you could share each other
SaraEve Fermin is a performance poet and epilepsy advocate from New Jersey. An East Coast heart jumping circus trains, she is the editor-in-chief of Wicked Banshee Press. Nowadays can be found volunteering at National Poetry Slam Events. She is a Women of the World Poetry Slam Competitor and her work can be found in GERM Magazine, Drunk In A Midnight Choir, Free Verse Magazine and Transcendence among others. Her second book of poetry, The View From The Top of the Ferris Wheel, will be published by Emphat!c Press in 2015. She believes in the power of foxes and self publishing.