I want him to see the flowers in my eyes and hear the songs in my hands.
He said that black sheeps express everyone else's anger and pain. It's not that they have all the anger and pain-they're just the only ones who let it out. Then the other people don't have to.
But death is stronger than that and when you cover your eyes you are the one who can't see the dark. The dark still sees you.
Baby, I love you. Pen... More then I love the color black. More than I love cigarettes, more than I love books. Even music.More than food. More than art or stories. More than words...
War is being reminded that you are completely at the mercy of death at every moment, without the illusion that you are not. Without the distractions that make life worth living.
My mind is like the valley—this vast barren waste. Car lots. Malls. Tract homes. I know there are other worlds beyond it—of canyons full of coyote and monarch butterflies, squirrels, bunnies, purple a...
It’s hard to remember what you fall in love with. Usually it is an expression in the eyes, an exchange, or a gesture or the sound of a voice, a word spoken. Those things can get blended with the atmos...
Grief is not something you know if you grow up wearing feathers with a Charlie Chaplin boyfriend, a love-child papoose, a witch baby, a Dirk and a Duck, a Slinkster Dog, and a movie to dance in. You c...
What would it be like if i thought i was prettywhat would it be like if i carried that knowledge aroundlike i do the knowledge that i am a writerpretty like peonies pretty like satin pretty like the c...
Believe him when he tells you you are beautifulit will only hurt you both not to(it is true besides)
You have to imagine things before you can do them. Stories help us see.
Witch Baby wanted to ask Ping how to find her Jah-Love angel. She knew Raphael was not him, even though Raphael had the right eyes and smile and name. She knew how he looked--the angel in her dream--b...
We try on different dresses, different selves, but our souls are always the same - ongoing, full of light.
This was not a fearie tale. This was not the movies. This was life. It hurt more. It was excruciating. It was excruciatingly beautiful.
Think about the word destroy. Do you know what it is? De-story. Destroy. Destory. You see. And restore. That's re-story. Do you know that only two things have been proven to help survivors of the Holo...
The homes of so many skeletons. People who used to fight over the last blueberry muffin at the breakfast table, get down on their knees to scrub bathroom floors, and kiss one another good night, think...
Morning. Strawberry sky dusted with white winter powder sugar sun. And nobody to munch on it with
If you were a mermaid, you said, If you were a mermaid, I was the sea.
If you want to find the trail, if you want to find yourself, you must explore your dreams alone. You must grow at a slow pace in a dark cocoon of loneliness so you can fly like wind, like wings, when...
I'll be inside the one who holds you. And then I won't be.