I don’t know what to write.
These words are putting up a fight.
I am much too much inside my head.
I need to chill and go to bed.
I accidentally took a very dramatic pic and I kinda dig it but don’t know where else to share it.
I personally don’t get offended by blonde jokes anymore. However, I’m not okay with little girls being called stupid.
Maybe if you believed in magic,
Baby, then you’d believe in me.
I think it’s kind of tragic
You only believe what you see.
You live in a world where every witch family must own some type of magic business. Most families choose to sell potions or cast spells on people. Years ago, your ancestors decided that the family business you are in was all about selling, buying, and trading humal souls. Your parents plan a date for you to collect your first soul. As someone who doesn’t want to continue this profession, how will you talk your family out of it?
“I don’t want to, Mother.”
“That hardly matters,” her mother said as she swept the broom across the floor. “It’s what has to be done. It’s tradition.”
“It’s a terrible tradition.”
Within seconds the broom flew across the room and pinned the young witch, Evanora, to the wall behind her, somehow managing to not knock over a single mason jar, plant, and the other miscellaneous things lying about along the way.
Her mother, a fearsome witch in the community, sauntered her way across the room, maneuvering about the jars, the plants, and the other miscellaneous things that crowded the room. Only when her face was mere inches from young Evanora, who was still being pinned to the wall by a very determined broom, did she stop to say, “Watch your mouth young one. You have a role to play and I expect you to play it.”
10 years later
“How’d you get out of doing it for so long?”
Evanora was on a date. A date her mother had set up. A date with a nonwitch with the sole intention of stealing his soul. Evanora was not happy about this.
“I fooled them into thinking I was bad at magic,” she explained. She had been pouting since before she arrived, and she continued to do so now.
“…and?” The date prompted.
“And they caught me doing magic. And I’m actually quite good. And she said that if I don’t get my ass over here and steal a soul, not only would steal them for me, but she would also kill me.”
“I don’t know if she’ll actually kill me, but even if she doesn’t, the punishment will likely be gruesome.”
“Oh my god,” the date shifted in his seat. After a moment he said, “so, you need my soul?”
Evanora glanced up at him with a question stitched into her eyebrows.
“If you’re going to die without it, you obviously need it,” he concluded.
“What’s your name?” Evanora asked, sitting up in her chair a bit more.
“I’m not taking your soul, Johnathan.”
“Then what are you going to do?”
Evanora sat back in her chair as she contemplated this question. What was she going to do? Not only would she be pissing off her family, but the many witches and warlocks that relied on her family. Honestly, they were all assholes. Or descendants of assholes and therefore knew no better.
“Hm,” she sat up in her chair, determined now. “Looks like I’m starting a rebellion.”
“Good witches don’t use other people’s souls. And skilled witches don’t need to.”
Johnathan sat there for a moment staring at her. “Okay,” he finally said. “How are you going to do that?”
“I’ll need your help.”
“My help? Evanore, I don’t know if you’ve noticed this or not, but I’m… I’m just a human! I can’t fight against witches! What help would I be?”
“The only difference between our families and yours is that we are aware of our power. Why do you think they steal souls?”
Johnathan looked dumbfounded.
“Johnathan. That power is within you. It was within every human that they stole from. Without the soul, there is only dark, emptiness. No power, but fear. And hunger. And anger. All this without the filter of what is good and what is bad. Do you see the problem?”
Johnathan nodded dumbly.
“Okay. I have a friend. He and his family are good and I’m sure they’d help us.”
“Good as in good, or good as in skilled?”
“Both. They taught me a lot about good and bad. Eliphas, my friend, has helped me develop my skills while I was dodging my family. He’s a very skilled witch.”
“Witch? Not warlock”
“Witch is a profession, not a gender.”
“Oh. Okay. And he’s just a friend? I see you blushing.”
“No. He is not just a friend, but he is also not anything more at this point in time. Would you like to focus now? Or should we gossip a bit more?”
“Right, okay.” Jonathan sat up a bit taller, looking decisively decided. “What do you need me to do?”
You’ve built a wall to block the pain.
You’ve realized the wall is holding you back more than it is protecting you.
And it takes so much work to maintain. It’s exhausting.
You start to realize that you are capable of feeling pain without breaking.
You are willing to feel pain to stop feeling this way.
Trapped. Angry. Hurt. Tired. Anxious.
You put down your sword and walk to the wall.
You’re looking for a rope to scale it and jump to the other side.
If only you could just get over it.
It starts to crumble.
You panic and patch it up. You’re holding your sword again.
When did that happen?
You put it down and look for the rope.
There is no rope.
You cannot just get over it.
And that’s okay.
You find a door. A much easier way. The only way.
With your hand on the handle, you start to freak out.
You know what it’s like on this side of the wall.
Though not ideal, it’s familiar and known.
You don’t know what’s on the other side of the door.
You take a deep breath and remember the only thing to fear is the pain of an emotion.
You remember that you are strong enough to handle pain without a wall. Without a sword or a shield.
You’re desire to feel love and freedom and to share love and freedom outweigh your fear.
You open the door.
You walk through and feel the wall surrounding you. All the pain and fear that created it. You feel it. You cry. You keeping walking through.
And then you’re through. You turn around and the wall has disappeared. Like it was never there.
Like it was all in your head.
You turn back to the present and see the sunlight. It warms your skin and lights your soul.
With a smile on your face, you continue.
You don’t have a right to say a thing.
I don’t need to prove myself to you.
You don’t have a right to make this sting.
I don’t need to take this from you.
You don’t seem to understand,
My life’s mine,
In my own hands.
You don’t get a say
In a single way
I choose to behave.
Let go of your ego
And let me go.
I ain’t a puppet
And this ain’t your show.
I don’t want to care if you’re upset.
I can’t help that you forget
This isn’t your line
And I’m fine.
So maybe try to find a way
To get me out of the place
In your head
That has me trapped there.
Instead of trying to
Tell me what to do
Take your ideas
And shove them
Up your mirror.
I will not bow down
To your fears.
I’m a little pissed off
That it pisses me off
That you feel entitled.
It shouldn’t effect me
But it triggered something
Primal in me.
I know it doesn’t matter
But the fact of the matter
Is that I’m scared I’m fucking up.
These emotions are a defense
To keep me from giving in
To the lies your comfort provides.
You don’t have a right to say a thing.
I won’t try to prove myself to you.
You don’t have a right make this sting.
I take back that power from you.
And I want to let you go.
And I want to let you know
That I’m spinning out
I’m spinning around
In my head.
And I want to pull you close.
And I want to pull your clothes
Up over your head
Come back to the bed
In my home.
And I want to shed a tear
And I want to shed my fear
To be free to roam
Oh how I have grown
In my heart.
I want to go where the river flows.
I want to know all I need to know.
I want to be so close,
I’m not afraid to let you go.
I want to stand where the wind will blow.
I want to live in the after glow.
I want to love you most,
I’m not afraid to stand alone.
Who you choose to love does not give you a moral high ground. Choosing not to hate what you don’t understand does.
The holes that you made were mine,
But they have healed with work and time.
The debt that you owed has been forgone.
I’m waking up to a brand new dawn.
So many things that I want to do.
I’m looking in the mirror
Saying I’m starting with you.
If the limit is the sky,
You can be sure that I’ll fly.
In time, we always find a way to write the things that we need to say. Sometimes it’s just a matter of putting the pen to the paper and letting your hand take control.
The brain puts up barriers, but your hand has been doing this for as long as you can remember. It does not always need the brain to lead.
Maybe this doesn’t make the most sense. But it seems the hand has a mind of its own. It’s like when you say something without meaning to, or without realizing it.
Words are powerful things. They will find their way.
See the forest,
See the trees.
Through the roots,
They see me.
I feel it in my core.
A burning fire,
A calming shore.
I’m starting over,
Starting from scratch.
There’s something terrifyingly
Freeing about that.
The grass is green.
On this side of the street.
But I am afraid
To step with bare feet.
I’ve had nothing.
I’ve felt nothing.
Now I can do anything.
…I don’t know what I’m doing.
We dance with time.
It’s yours and it’s mine.
Take this heart
And fill it with gold.
My values are mine
And they cannot be sold.
I put my life on the line one word at a time.
This life of mine is small. But I’ll be damned if I don’t give it my all. You see, my soul is bigger than anything we’ve seen. This life of mine cannot stop me.
I’ve been fighting for a chance, clawing my way to take a stance. And even if I stand alone, the world will reap what I’ve sown.
And I’m not standing lonely. I take pride in my army. As I stand within it all, I learn that my life, our life, is pretty tall.
I can’t find the right words. I tried to lay them out, but they just won’t work.
I like to think that my poor vision is compensated by my ability to see the bigger picture.
Take this time to take it slow.
This isn’t how I thought it would go.
I’m begging you, baby,
I’m down on my knees.
In the end, it’s always me.
In the end, I will be free.
Just try to stop me now.
In the end, I’ll take a bow.
Your fists were your words,
Hit so deep that it hurt.
I am mine through this bruise.
I am mine as I choose.
Take this time to let me know,
This was the only way it could go.
Give me something.
Give me hope.
Prayed so hard that I choked.
Carry my heart from the fire,
Gripped my soul real tight.
I balanced my life on a wire,
Now I’ll be alright.
On our way to the fair thee well
Though this will not end
I know there is no parallel,
I’ll just wait here then.
My oh my how far we have come,
Brothers and soldiers.
The light you sparked has just begun.
We can move boulders.
Wayward we go with attitude.
I’ll hold you so dear.
Though I may have lost my shoe,
I will stand right here.
Son of a bitch you’ll be missed.
May you find some peace.
I stand by you at every twist.
My love will not cease.