Posted in Poems, Uncategorized

For Pen-Holding Prince. ( 10/8/16)

King of shadows,

lover of leather;

little lilac, your lady lace queen

awaits, waiting for time to twist us together.

Bubbles and laughter float from above

in that willow—dandelion meadow;

Those sorrow trees sway

and those beautiful weeds glow,

they mimic my heart,

for love shines so bright even when forgotten.


My punch throwing poet,

pen-holding prince;

blue eyed baby, your youthful princess

waits for life to spin us a little closer.

Butterflies and whiskey on the tip of your tongue,

in that forbiddeness, I dare

to fall into the swirl

of lips upon lips, eyes

alluring abyss, fire and fists,

the tremble of chapped, pale lips.


Thank you for reading and sharing your thoughts with me about this poem in the comments below.

-Wishing you the brightest of days,Eva

” Me and the pen, we are one. If its ink would cease to flow, my ink would cease to flow.”



I am a young and enthusiastic writer, fresh out of highschool and into college at IUSB. I babysit and work and live life to it's fullest. I write. I read. I do yoga. And plan to become. Yoga intructers as well. I grew up on a farm and can't,t wait to move back to the country in my tiny house I have already planned out. Sometimes I'm a little melodramatic but rarely. I'm a spiritual healer, a hopeless romantic, a book worm, and very nostalgic. Thanks for stopping by.

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