magic at the tip of my pen

There is magic at the tip of my pen.  It is purple and it flows out like stardust... or like ink (same thing!).  Maybe that is why I love to design night skies purple with glowing purple stars.  It shines within me from a deep place.  That is my magic feather, and I love purple night skies.  With my magic pen, I can create anything - and I never need to hide.  I am free to be a bird with wings visiting anywhere she wants to go with no judgement about being there, and leaving when she feels ready with no pressure to stay.  I am freer than a bird with my bird feather in hand as I write with purple stardust from the tip of my pen, because there is magic at the tip of my pen.  This magic is what I can use to my transgression - I can bring characters and stories and worlds to life if I want to but only as much as I want to - I can make them as real or as imaginary as I want with the flick of my magic ink pen.  The more I write, the more I know what my power is.  I understand that the writer is no less powerful than the person with brute strength or the person who makes rocket-ships, because the writer has magic that touches hearts - and everyone knows that hearts are bigger than rocket-ships.  This magic never fades, and I have this magic.  It's right here, at the tip of my pen.