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
Mar 16, 2016
Mar 16, 2016 at 7:32 PM UTC
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
