the witch speaks – Water Witches

Hey, please come ask me witchy shit, I’m high and feel like talking!!

-looks at the immense wound that is my trauma-

-looks at abusers-

A bitch would consider offing you all if they could get away with it.

“Don’t be a victim.”

I guess that’s pretty easy for you to say when you are the one holding the knife.

“I’m sorry if you feel like I did (thing to you)”.

Thats not an apology.

Someone come talk to me (and give me money cause baby poor)

I fell this weekend and reinjured my back along with my wrist and foot, and it looks like it aggrevated my sciatica, so that’s cool

itsahumandisaster:

waterwitchesmovingstone:

How the fuck does one get a girlfriend??????

my tactic was stare at someone for like three months and then get your friends to set you up

But my friends are all gay and we all SUCK

I am struck with a spear filled with memories,

and I stagger.

I was young, maybe 12, and I knew in my furthest reaches of self that something was wrong with how I was feeling in the world.

I dreamed of living far away on a farm, doing many kinds of art, spending time growing things and eating them, of making things and using them.

I could taste the air of possibility, could see the light the therapy there could show me. I wanted to get dirty, I wanted to laugh.

“That would cost a lot of money, even if I could find a place like that,” my mother had said.

Healing is so inaccessible, or such a long process to those without the means to get the help they deserve and crave.

The smell of that wish collapses me,

the idea so foreign and still so needed.

Even now, I feel my hands ache for clay and space and freedom. Growth with so little soil is tedious, but still growth just the same.