Posted in life, Poems, thoughts

— you–

The calloused page,


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


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.”



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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