I don't need Him,
Or His miracles,
Or His precious garden of Eden
I'll find my own salvation instead -
I have my own flowerbed to tend

My morning glories need more water
Not your thoughts,
Nor your prayers
Their trumpeted white petals
Stretch towards the moon
In it's pale gloom
But curl inwards at the sight
Of the scorching daylight

So please leave me be,
His is not the light I need
Nothing more,
Than the earth beneath my feet
The wind in my hair,
And soft french melodies
Lulling me to sleep

You say
He created these things
In six days, then rested
Well, that's just dandy,
Congratulations!
But I shan't enter His house,
I won't read His book
There are too many rules on
'How not to burn in Hell'
Fear and guilt don't seem
Like unconditional love to me

There are only so many times
I can say "No thank you,"
But I'll keep saying it –
I have my own peace to keep
Maybe you'll scoff,
Even call me
A heretic
But I think it moronic
Some things I like,
You call demonic

My hair, orange and bright –
Set aflame by his unholy light
Magic and tarot,
Poetry that sings
Tattoos that read
Like a witches' spell circle
Spellbinding stories
That breathe unto me
Imagination is no fickle thing
Everything is permitted,
And nothing is free

If it's not meant to harm,
And it breeds love and delight
What is there to fear?
What reason is there to shun?

My heart is open
My spirit is free
I don't need scripture
To tell me how to be
You see the Devil –
I see a friend in thee
Perhaps Samael
Would like some tea?

My coffee sings a morning lie
I greet the room and get no reply
Still, I talk to myself—at least I try
The walls never say hello or goodbye
Maybe the silence is just being shy...
but we usually see eye to eye
Now it’s time for ham and egg pie

The bookshelf waits. Dust comes to stay.
Unread for weeks. This is the way.
My pile of clothes begins to sway—
A soft rebellion, mild decay.
Necklaces lounge in proud display,
Bright lollipop earrings steal the day,
I dress like I’ve outrun dismay.

Otonoke in my ears, pocketed hands
I don’t need a reason. I don’t need a plan
The clouds clap with a flash and a BANG
I walk like I'm lit by streetlamp spite—
just me and the echo of maybe-I-might

One step, two step, three step, four
I giggle in the face of thunderstorms
Rain, rain, please don't abate
Let me linger in this state
Wet socks squish, but they carry their weight
Wish I had nowhere to be, that'd be great
The clouds and I are late for our date
My umbrella dozes – dry, ignored
Drip-dry dreams on the hallway floor
I hang up my coat and set my plea:
Oh woe is not me

I refuse to droop, to wither, to mope
Not all the time, at least, I hope
Let joy arrive on tiptoe
A spark that only I bestow
A tiny smile for what I miss the most

Because what is the opposite of woe?
If not a blink that dares to glow

Wrapped in fleece, the evening mine
Slow sips of golden honey wine
Just me, and this quiet offering
Where everything small becomes everything