Posted in life, Poems, thoughts

Assesorie to murder.

I was talking to you

while they died

and freedom vaporized.

Tattered skirts


tattered morals.

god shed his grace on us,

love sick, 

as there blood was shed.

We dress our parts well

with the glimmer of

our assesorie to murder.
– Eva M.M.

” 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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