Away is a Dream

Here is a boy
Who knows he's insane
Who falls to feel wind in his face
Here is a girl
Who dances in rain
Who never can stay in one place

Here is a boy
Who was stuck in one town
Who wished on a shooting star
Here is a girl
Who had walking feet
But couldn't walk that far

*Evyn

Ink

Touch my heart

Fingers dipped in ink

Universes bend

Withdraw your hand

Eternity stains your skin

*Evyn

The Way He Says My Name

Part 1
The way he says my name,
A rope he clings to when he is hanging over a fire.
The way he says my name,
A lifeboat in a storm when there is no shore in sight.
The way he says my name,
A light in the midst of the darkest night he's lived.

Part 2
The way he says my name,
A goodbye.



*Evyn

On the sixth day of February...

On the sixth day of February my blogger gave to me:
One quote...

Two story prompts...

Twelve tips...

One quote to inspire fearlessness...

And one send-off...

May your pens stay sharp!

~Evyn

Taking on a challenge

Hello!
I don't have tips today (although I will publish prompts soon) but I wanted to share with you all the exciting news that I am now my school's official newsletter editor. It'll be a big challenge. We haven't had a newsletter in several years because everyone has been busy and getting submissions is difficult. I'm hoping to completely transform it from a casual familial letter to a professional grade newspaper. If you have any tips or advice, please comment or message me! I'd love to hear from you. :)

May your pens stay sharp!
~Evyn

New Year, New Writing Goals

Hello, writers!
I apologize for not updating sooner. I DID complete National Novel Writing Month! I'm really excited and proud of that. My final word count was 50,398 words. How did you do?
I'm going to give it another go November, 2015, but until then, I need more to work on!

I am currently putting together a poetry collection. I live and breathe poetry right now. :) Here's one I wrote a few days ago:

Does the rose weep for her thorns?

Does the cloud blush when she rains?

Does the mockingbird cringe at the sound of her own voice?

Are creatures unhappy with the way they were created?

Or do they fulfill their purposes without complaint,

Shedding beauty, however unwanted, on all they touch?

The sun is beautiful, yet she does not mourn for those she burns.

I'll update soon. :)

May your pens stay sharp!
~Evyn