Posted in Poems, thoughts


Thoughts on what is to come

overwhelm  me with fears;

I even forget who I once was

blind to that bitterness, my dull delusions.


There is a cloud called calm

in which I build my strength.

Reclining in the softness of hope,

I hold at heart no doubt

but when my mind grows dim,

I curl in my damp dugout of doubt

–dull delusions stifling my dreams.


I often forget to exist,

thinking about one day being.

I lose focus on the real meaning

and lose myself in the meaning.

I want to pull back the curtain,

the illusion that is defined by breathing:

To get through the pain,

the all consuming pulse of hate,

I remind myself that I am only dreaming

and fleeting.


-Eva M.M.

Throwback to the beginning of my senior year, this is a poem I wrote way back in September.

” 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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