Calling me “too much” is a lazy way of saying
You don’t know how to fan the flame of your own fire.
Does my brilliance upset you?
It’s not my fault that the anger runs through my blood like a snake
That settles at the base of my spine
And infuses my light with a red tinted hue
That screams I am NOT to be messed with.

The tongue I hold in my mouth is as sharp as a dagger
And it can spit barbed wire as easily as it can French kiss.
To deny the way I ****, destroy and scream
Is to deny the way I make love and sing universes into creation.

I am not white or black magick.
I am chaos magick.
And I will destroy as I sing Kali’s name,
And hang the heads of men like a garland around my holy throat.