Posted in life, Poems, thoughts

— you–

The calloused page,

you,

word after word

grating against my skull,

pale voice

meekly reading poetry,
the scent of rain

kissed with the faint bitterness of smoke,

the brush upon my vacant canvas.
In my dreary and obscure mind

I see

you

tremble against the strain of life.

-Eva M.M.

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

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Author:

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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