I’ve never been more of a witch, 
than I am now, in this moment, 
named and claimed, written in fat, 
bold, capital letters across my heart. 

And it beats, it beats in time with rage
of the day I once thought you could 
teach me anything. I’ve got more magick 
in my teeth than you’ll ever have running 
through hierarchies. You bow to the Hierophant, 
yet I stand and turn on my heels away. 

Writing big to those with witchcraft 
in their hearts. Keep your wits about you,
look for the snakes in disguise. Know in your gut
the symbols, the traps they lay to keep you. Know this, and run, return, be sovereign. No one will ever know your heart but you. This is doubly true. 

Watch, be careful where you step, and listen. 
There are no secrets. There is nothing to discover 
in a degree, or a slick sounding hierarchy. You know this. You know this. 

You have what you need already. Return to the 
altar, make it your own, fill it with treasures you’ve sewn. Pen big poems in bold ways, hex the bastards sideways. They thought they could fuck with a witch. Make them regret this. 

You were a witch once before, you are a witch now. Always, forever, into fucking eternity. That, they’ll 
never take, they couldn’t, ever.