death by burning knows no era
and my demons have long
set me on fire.
i feel like a witch burning at the stake —
burning and screaming for too long now,
but give it time and maybe
even my nerves can learn to be numb,
even the lick of flames can grow cold;
and maybe even the ashes can feel like home.
Words stigmatized and outlawed.
Know your thoughts are 'free’!
Tell me about the wicked witch of the west,
Tell me about her black pointy hat,
Her black screeching cat.
The night she flew thru the sky,
The night she touched the stars and danced for the moon,
Her dance a gift and a goodbye.
Tell me more about the wicked witch of the west,
Tell me about her auburn hair as it turned to dust,
Her angel voice, her last scream through the air it ******,
Tell me about her godly form in the flame, her last words whispered
A deep cut through our chest.
Tell me more about my sister,
Tell me about the Wicked Witch of the West.
I am relinquishing my fears today
No longer shall I be too afraid to be who I am
I am not ashamed of my faith
I shouldn't hide behind a decade of prosecution
We've moved past the burnings and the witch hunts
Let them come at me with their torches and pitchforks
It isn't my goddess who seeks the path of destruction
— The End —