they say we are the daughters of the witches
that didn’t burn
but they’re wrong
we’re the daughters of the witches that did

that’s why there’s fire in our veins
that’s why we realise what’s at stake

long fingernails and red lipstick
black cats and tarot cards held tight
that’s why we stare at the moon, darling
that’s why there’s magic in our touch

we start by making potions out of mud
and end by crucifixion
we are all those little girls who know
there are things worth burning for

Categories: Poetry, SeriesTags: call me monster, feminism, monster series, Poetry, witches