Posted in Poems, Uncategorized


When I look at him all I see are echoes of my faded circus dreams,

hazy-purple atmosphere


dizzy smoke filled nights.

I feel it all growing,

growing towards the luminescence,

palms pressed against my chest:

I feel the thorns press through

as the roses grow in my lungs,

they puncture,

they tear at the tissue of my life,

they destroy

and they bloom,

red and pink, yellow and white–

they bloom out to fill the cavern of my deflating lungs.

And I gasp…

blurred vision through which I can glimpse only him

as I crumple over

an echo of who I once was.


-Eva M.M.

Prompt :Echo

Let me know your thoughts on this poem in the comments below.

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













I am the author of and am currently working on a book of poems. To find out more check out my about me page as well as my page about my blog and welcome to the ink angels community.

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