The witch is coming after me. I feel her crusty nasty fingernails scraping all around me, my sparse so-called belongings. She knows I am weak. She knows I can’t fight her right now. And so she leaves her little signals to scare me, to weaken me even more. But I am not scared of her little tricks: her messages of victory, her calling me out and playing seek and hide, following me everywhere with the Monster Mirror (where I am supposed to be scared of myself?). I wonder if she is aware of my power of transformation —I can still look the other way and remember that I am good and that love is what will only matter—.If she ever really hurts me; I will break her clean in two with my panther paw.
No comments:
Post a Comment