Posted in letters, life, Poems, thoughts

@ Charlie’s 

splintered- spine

slants

towards

shuddering shoulders.

your words

suspended above

my words

solid ice in my veins.

daring to dare

you

to place

lips

on

a lie.

left to sulk,

to beg:

Still love me, my love,

in memory

remember me,

tucked away in your top shelf.

– Eva M.M.

Thank you all for reading and sharing your thoughts with me. I know I announced this post a while back on Instagram and am finally getting around to it so my apologies for the delay. 

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

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Posted in story, thoughts

2017

You drew your fist back, pausing to examine the blood dripping from your knuckles. I stood in the doorway, watching the rain slowly dissolve the blood from his face. He lay crumpled over with his nose pouring out, disfigured. You looked over at me and our eyes met. I think I should of known then that I had become the world I despised but I just turned away, bracing against the wall as I heard you swing at him again. I felt dizzy. I felt the ground beneath me lurch in fear for us all. I walked to the table, scraping the floor as I pulled out a chair. Sat. Staring. Breathing. Waiting. I heard you shouting but could only make out fragments of what you were saying, ” Dirty….. Scumbag.. your skull… I will teach you a lesson for trespassing on my land…” Then silence. Then the distinct crunching of bone? No, to firm, your feet heavy against the ground crossing the path between the house and the shed. I was almost tempted to stand up and force myself to watch from the window. Instead, I began paging through a magazine in the table, sticky and outdated. We never read anymore. Mind’s gone to mush like the molding and rotting food in the fridge that reminds me of the constant embrace of hunger. Ask the neighbors for help. I have told you a million times but you just won’t listen. Would they help us anyway. Sure they have more than enough, but why not keep it from themselves. A little wastefulness never hurt anybody. Or that is what you told me they must think with the way they scrap their plates into the trash after only eating two thirds. It is people like that who make me sick. People like that who have no regards for anybody but themselves. I thought about that yesterday also as I was brushing my hair, examining myself in the mirror. Would you believe that I considered smashing it? I knew how mad that would make you. I knew your face would tense and that ugly vein would bulge in your neck and your teeth would grind and I would watch your arms twitch and neither of us would do anything about the shards of glass lying on the bedroom floor. Yet, for a moment, I was still tempted to snatch up the sled-hammer from the shed and destroy what was destroying.

I finally get up, hearing your footsteps again, this time striding towards the house. I see the red stain the knob as your grotesque hands struggle to get a grip and turn it. You stand in the frame waiting for me to say something but what is there to say.

” Are you upset?” You finally prompt.

I can feel my jaw twitching, trembling, fighting to say the sort of things that could change the world. What would the point be though? Nothing I say could change you. I finally manage to stammer out one incoherent sentence.

” He was … I..inno..cent, you didn’t h..h have to d d..o that to him.”

I’m sobbing now, the paint in my veins is peeling off its walls. I’m on the floor, clenching my knees to my chest, and gasping for air. Your on top of me, screaming something about how it is your right, your freedom, how this place isn’t what is used to be, how freedom ain’t free anymore because of soft hearted, accepting women like me, how a man has got to do what a man has got to do to keep things running smoothly. I feel a clump of my hair rip from its roots, and your lifting my head now, slamming it down rough on the cold tiles. “You understand? You understand now?”  You spit against my torn scalp. Your knee rests in the cavern of my twisted spine and you stop. You stop and then get up and go to the sink, splashing tainted water all over the counter tops as you cleanse your grime. I hear you open the cupboard and grab a glass,and turn the water back on. I can feel your eyes tunneling through me. I know you are leaning against the counter, drinking, watching me watch myself watch the world. I can’t get up. Minutes pass. You set the glass down with a thud and walk back over to me. You pull me up, sit me in a chair and silently walk out. Minutes pass. You walk back in and begin wiping my mouth, my jaw, my head, with a ratty t-shirt. I see your hands are still slightly stained and now I add to that. I’m stone eyed. I can’t breathe. You stop. You don’t even say you are sorry. You just stop wiping the evidence away. They all do it that way. But you, you just stopped and then you kiss me. You pull away as if you are the disgusted one and leave the room. I quickly wipe the mildew from my lips; I feel you working your way into my lungs, the rancid toxicity of your saliva boring holes in the roof of my mouth.

I grow dizzy again but I don’t dare stand. I hear the t.v turn on in the other room, imagine you slinking down into its rut. The murmuring news.Something terrible has happened and I don’t need the news to tell me so. I turn around and stand slowly,  walking to the window. The sky is a cacophony of purple, yellow and fading blue but underneath it all is a trickle of red. He still is lying out in the driveway but there is a finality about him now. A serenity veiled by your brutality. I don’t even cry anymore. I just hold on to the edge of the counter , rocking up and down on the balls of my feet, with the news in one corner of my mind and his dull, hollow eyes caked in blood staring at me across the drive.

– Eva M.M.

I don’t share my stories or scenes with you very much but this one I really wanted to share. I feel though it is gruesome and rough at the edges, it has some message in it for everybody. The message different people get from it may be different but I hope everybody can walk away with something.

Thank you for reading and stopping by. If you are new to 1withthepen feel free to ask me a little bit about my blog and writing. As always I love hearing from anybody in the comments.

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

Posted in life, Poems, thoughts

All my little scars.

All my little scars

still blind

me to you,

Still bind me

to go through

with the jaggedness of living.
I thought I could forget

the taste of rising bile

pushing at the back of my throat;

But I forgot that every time we kissed

The walls of my stomach would clench,

would warn me of impending 

Urgency,

passion posioned,

romance rotten,

rank flesh sweating against swindled skin.
All my little stains

still sour to my eyes.

For life is the reminder

that you lived and you listed

and look what you did,

you left me stained

with all my little scars

to tuck in, trembling at night .
– Eva M.M.

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

Posted in life, thoughts

September

Although there were those two or so weeks in August when I started college, I wanted to wait until September was almost over to check in with you. One month is over of my Freshman year of college and it seems that is all is already going by faster than I would like. Nothing much has really changed in my life either but yet everything has a very different feel to it. For one I am 100 times more relaxed than in high school and everything everybody told me about college being stressful and so demanding is utterly false in my opinion. Sure it takes hard work, good time management and dedication to your education. If I did not care than I would be failing. Since I care though and since I am applying myself it is enjoyable and sure it can be a challenge sometimes but it is worth every minute I put into a paper or study for a quiz. Mostly, it is mine. I am fully responsible for what happens between me and my education and that is a relief to me not a stressor like people wanted me to believe. Years ago when I was just starting middle school I was eager for college for this very reason and everybody kept telling me not to wish away time, not to grow up to fast that college really is not that wonderful of a time. I say, a lot of it probably depends on your personality. You may cope better in a college environment or maybe you thrive better in a high school environment and maybe neither coincides well with who you are. Also, a lot of it has to do with where you go to school if you go to a college or a high school that is a good fit for you etc.. but overall I think that a lot less pressure needs to be put on college. Keep the emphasis on the importance of hard-work, good study habits and not wasting these days partying because those are all good things to be reminded of as a senior preparing to make a huge decision regarding their future. I just think it is highly misleading to tell people college is stressful because I never thought it would be and I was right for myself at least. I have meandered off in my thoughts now… I was saying nothing much has changed and yet everything sort of has, I am very relaxed here, I enjoy the challenges I am experiencing, I miss working though and hope to change that yet this semester or next, I miss my friends,all the children I babysat, and my cat. I enjoy my classes and meeting new people. The diversity of thought is refreshing to me when I grew up and went to Catholic or Christian based schools all of my life.  I am learning French  in school as my minor which I might make a double major with my English major later. I am also learning Swedish on the side. Other than that I have been sitting pretty, reading here and there, knitting, trying to keep up as best as possible with my friends lives, writing obviously,and working on art.  I have started a new art piece that I plan to share with you about my process in a post when it is done but who knows when that will happen. I take ages with setting art up.

I keep trying to visualize where I was a year ago in September and I will have to dig out that journal and read to find out precisely. ( Side note: I plan on doing a post soon about journaling so if that sounds interesting to you and it does not happen soon remind me in the comments to any of my posts so I don’t forget.) I know I was in a good place. Life was getting even better but I also know I was struggling with the monotony of high school life and wanting it to be over.

A lot changes in a year.

A lot changes in a month.

I will check in with you about my college life hopefully towards the end of October again and we will see what has changed then.

Lots of love to all my lovely ink angels, Thank for stopping by and if you are new to 1withthepen don’t hesitate to ask me any questions.

-Eva M.M.

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

 

Posted in life, thoughts

Instagram

Hello my lovely ink angels,

This is going to be a really short announcement. I recently got an Instagram and while for now I literally have only one post I plan to use it more often soon to announce planned posts, ideas and other content as well as give you a way to see more one on one my life, reading habits, writing, my photography as well as exclusive meandering thoughts. So if that sounds interesting to you and you want to follow me it is just 1withthepen on Instagram and feel free to  let me know if you have any questions.

Thanks.

-Eva M.M.

 

 

Posted in book, book review, books, life, philiosophy, story, thoughts

Book Review : ‘ The Joy Luck Club’ By: Amy Tan

One of the first book reviews I wrote for this blog was on an Amy Tan book, ” The Valley of Amazement.’ Since then I have wanted to read another one of her books so when I found myself with a new library card I went looking  through the shelves trying to remember something off of my to read list. You would think that would be a fairly easy task seeing as my to read list is up to 720 books but you would be wrong. I spent a few minutes this way and then I gave up and went up to a random shelf deciding to pull various books out until I saw something that seemed interesting to me. I happened to walk right up to Amy Tan and remembered that I wanted to read another one of her books. I looked at a few options and ended up choosing ‘ The Joy Luck Club’.  I do not regret it. Though the size may be vastly different than ‘ The Valley of Amazement’ and the story utterly different I still would highly recommend any Amy Tan book. Her stories span not only countries and long periods of time but also a plethora of human emotion and thought. One again I found that as an mostly ignorant American in regards to Chinese tradition and culture, I was able to learn both the rigidity but also deep bond of Chinese families. I acknowledge that this a story and so to some extent things are abstracted and generalized. Yet, I walked into the story in one mindset and walked out understanding and feeling a vastly different set of emotions. Tan takes your emotions and plays with your heart strings manipulating what we may think of as the perfect family picture and leaving the traces of something murkier. Family, as Tan shows us, runs deeply and you can’t change that no matter how hard you try. It is in your blood for better or for worse. However, you can change how you react to that fact and you can choose to do with it what you wish. In the end, I walked away from this book having a better sense for my own familial identity and realizing ,despite the crazy and the bad times, I am lucky for the family that I have. They are a part of me and I am a part of them and we can fight it all we want but we are usually better of learning to embrace it. So, to anyone looking for their next book to read, maybe consider reading this one especially if you are interested in Chinese culture, family or stories that you get to read from the perspective of multiple characters. Bonus, though I have not watched it, it was made into a movie as well so if you are one of those people who like reading things and then seeing the movie, this is the choice for you.

Have you read this book or another one of Amy Tan’s books? If so, tell me your thoughts on it/them. Also, as always I am always open to any book suggestions you think I might enjoy or want to know if I have read.

Thanks for stopping by. Love to all my little ink angels.

-Eva M.M.

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

Posted in letters, life, Poems, thoughts

Your lungs Rewrite

Paper-mache worlds caged by lonesome bone,

lined with the smoke of your impermanence.

Faded pink,they breathe in words, wisdom

like the wispy clouds above.

 

World can only hold so much pain

and humanity cannot refrain

from billowing clouds of thought pollution;

The allure of dancing on life’s deflated lungs.

 

Melanized like my contaminated  heart,

your lungs

like clay that has yet to be molded.

Vast oceans of air

that are oceans from mine,

tiny capsules of loss.
He says, if “Death is the mirror in which the entire meaning of life is reflected.”

let me fall into it’s crystalline surface.

 

And I : Vacancy of breath upon breath

haunted by your lungs

writhing beneath a cloud of stubbornness.

-Eva M.M.

Note that the quote on death being a mirror is from,  “The Tibetian book of living and dying “.

Thank you all for reading and sharing your feedback and thoughts with me.

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

Posted in life, Poems, thoughts

Godess

I wanted to be your little godess

so I tore off my skin

and bore holes in my bones

building portals to better world

 

where I dared to escape

from your arms ,

branches that grew

around my birch bark breaths,

raspy from the effort of being

something I had grown to loathe.

 

I wanted to be your entire world

so I melted my heart

and crusified my soul,

bearing the weight

of toxic words and stained palms
that curl and uncurl

in the heat of your acidity

against my tarnished cellophane,

restless from the intensity

of gutting myself for a stone.

-Eva M.M.

Thanks for stopping by and checking what 1withthepen is all about. Glad to hear from newcomers and regulars as always

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