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The Witches

Rock Hard 
Like the stones in the builders yard 
Tension so tight 
Frozen in fright 

Strangled by the throat 
Wearing a woollen coat 
It’s cold inside and outside 
Frozen by lies 

No reaction 
No subtraction 
Fear binds the wounds 
Bound tightly in the energetic loom

Through generations they shift 
Not realising their grip 
Until they are seen 
Until with love, the wounds are cleaned 

You hold on so tight 
With all your might 
As this is what you learned 
A protective method of not being burned 

But us witches 
We must fly at night 
Dive deeper and deeper into our sacred sight 
Lest we’ll take this to our grave 
Never embodying our brave 
Written by Zoe Langman 23.07.2023 
A stripped floor

Stripped of Pleasure

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