I close my eyes. I am the visionary, the one-eyed seer, the storyteller. I am Pen. I can fight with the power of images and words.
I am not a hero, I am not Odysseus, there are no gods or goddesses guiding me. All I have is myself. And Hex's sword.
But the woman came to her them. The woman with hair of red like roses, hair of white like snowfall. She was young and old. She was blind and could see everything. She spoke softly, in whispers, but he...
But me, maybe I fit in a place like this. Maybe the cold inside of me will seem less cold in this winter. Maybe the tall buildings will make the brick walls I build for myself seem smaller. Maybe the...
Barbie was no longer afraid of anything. It was like the thing Mab had said about belief. The belief is sometimes the biggest part of it all. You can choose to believe in your published book being hel...
After his kisses and hugs it feels like without them my body will fall apart into pieces.
Choose to believe in your own myth your own glamour your own spell a young woman who does this (even if she is just pretending) has everything....
The rain is coming.little sister, the night broke. the thunder cracked my brain finally. the rain is coming, i promise you. i didn’t mean to but your tears will bring life back. purple flowers grow, t...
I could see the veins through your skin like a map to inside you. how could skin be that thin? i was so afraid you might drop and break. i stopped breathing so you wouldn't.
Air. I am still holding the scissors, pointing
You’ll have to take me to some museums, he said. He was being the young man on the road, following the sun because gray weather made him suicidal, writing his poetry in his mind in diners and gas stat...
Whatever love meant there was some version of it that I felt for Winter. And it didn't matter if he felt that for me or not or if it was real love or just my sadness about my dad that had turned into...
The happier you are, the less you need.
Same old boring boring story America can’t stop telling itself. What is this sicko fascination? Every book and movie practically has to have a little, right? But why do you think all those runaways ar...
No, I’m all right. I think I’m just over-stimulated or something.Do you want to explain that one to me? Do we need to take you to buy some condoms?Mom! No.
NightingaleDid I wound you, mutilate. Take away your voice. Did I cut something from you. Leave you locked in silence?This is what you do: you sing. Every part of you. Your locks of hair sing, your ey...
If you made up a city like this, no one would have believed you. It seemed more like myth than reality- a whole metropolis built up around an industry that recorded dreams on giant screens, a city bor...
I thought he had taken my soul, said Rev. I thought he took mine, too. But no one can. It's just been sleeping.
I think when you are born an angel should say to you, hopefully kindly and not in that fake voice of an airline attendant: Here you go on this long, long dream. Don’t even try to wake up. Just let it...
I think that poetry is perfect for women raising children, with just bits of time and such need to connect to other women out of the isolation of motherhood.