Good Witches do not

wear dresses of peonies

they do not say

“I am a Good Witch”

they are not

caricatures of happiness


Good Witches wear

sunsets like cloaks

they run with

bare feet

exposed limbs

and snake hair

through forests and foggy minds


They jump over stone walls

laughing as the

sticks crack

beneath them

they drum their midnight black claws

against tables

as if they were raised by wolves

and divine your future

in sidewalk cracks

modern-day Cassandras,

better listen

listen


they do not say

“I am a Good Witch”

they smirk, bear fangs

forked tongues spilling magik like moonlight

and make you figure it out yourself

It's the middle of the night
and I haven't figured out
if these feelings are lying
or if I'm only honest in the dark.

I feel alone every time
I slow down enough to feel
and I'm craving the feeling
your body beside me brings.

I'm not allowed to have you
and it's breaking every bone
inside my aching soul
at least that's my 1am feeling.

i hate that i’m lying in bed
with a cup of tea
and can see myself in the future
in our bed
with a cup of tea
and you lying next to me

and i hate that i can see myself turning out the light
and laying my head to rest
on your chest

i hate that i can see us sitting at a little round kitchen table
next to the window
you in your black rimmed glasses
scrolling through your phone
me with my hair ******* and one knee draw up to my chest,
eating a bowl of oatmeal as the sun creeps its way
into the middle of the sky

i hate that i can see us side by side
brushing our teeth in a cramped bathroom
in front of a foggy mirror,
listening to music as we get ready for the day

i hate that i can see us walking out the front door,
i hate that i can see us kissing goodbye

because i’m lying in bed
with a cup of tea
thinking about all of this,
thinking about you

yet i’ve already kissed you
goodbye.

you are the song
i want to listen to
in that cliché and timeless
3am moment on the highway
windows rolled
down with the
potential-filled and empty
yet comforting indigo
sky blowing past,
only car on the road
just us, me with my
feet up on the dash,
fingers interlocked with
yours on my lap,
headlights illuminating
the road and trees
ahead, can’t think about
anything else except
for the pulse of the night
and cold air on my skin
and oh God
this is my life and
i feel so alive

It terrifies me that we only get a limited amount of time with people. And that some people get more time than others who should have. I’m forever envious of those who’ve gotten more time with you than I have. That I may never get to be with you as long as they have. That our time is running out. And I miss you already. And I never want to say goodbye. At first it was slow, late nights in your car and afternoons in my bedroom. But now it feels like it’s happening all at once, like you’re doing a snow angel on my heart and it keeps getting bigger and bigger. Kissing on the sidewalk, holding hands in your coat pocket because I forgot to bring gloves. Wandering around museums and having hard conversations on your couch that make me love you even more; even when the air becomes glass, I can’t stop thinking about how lucky I feel to know you. That there’s no one else like you. My heart aches in your arms and aches when we’re apart. And I just want to be as close to you as possible, for as long as possible, because you are the most beautiful person I’ve ever met, and I love who I am when I’m with you.