Coloured Shadows

This feeling, I’m scared;
I feel it in my bones;
He’s there-
A light surrounded by dark,
The colourful past,
Against my black and white contrast.
I’m scared.

He won’t hurt me, he says;
He doesn’t know my fear,
My panic, my worry;
He doesn’t know how I hurt,
How I need and I want,
My deepest desires,
The plans I wish to conspire.
Yes, I’m scared.

I want to be with him;
Really, I do,
But I chase things away;
I break them, I smash them;
Things fall apart,
When my hands touch them.
I’m scared.

But your hands fit mine,
And everything feels right,
And you stay in my head long through the night.
But I’m still scared.

I want him to stay,
I can’t handle him being away;
My heart, my head, my body it craves:
His undivided attention;
Oh, this feels so grave.
That’s why I’m afraid.

I get in too deep,
So this seductive poison does seep,
Into the heart of every man that holds me;
Until he no longer believes he holds the key,
And his only option is to ‘set me free’.

And I swear yet again,
To those disastrous men,
You will not take my heart!
You will not take my life!
but here I am,
Falling yet again,
For the colourful shadow from my shady childhood.
I’m scared.

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A Silly Young Boy That I Once Knew

All we need is time.
All anybody needs is time.
We all need something sublime,
But I found it-
It’s there,
Standing in a storm,
Of this darkest thoughts.

I feel like the girl that he once knew,
When every sky was a different blue;
You were the constant,
My own personal hue,
But I couldn’t see what had happened to you;

I was so wrapped up in my own private misery,
That I couldn’t see what had happened in front of me,
But here he is, that silly boy,
That makes me laugh out so coy;

However, no longer just that silly boy:
A territorial animal,
A dangerous man,
A God in his own right,
Needing to be worshipped,
Worshipped by the woman this fragile girl came to be.

Does she let the boy in, knowing his heart?
Or does she shut this man out and get a fresh start?

But I let him in, like the fool that I am,
And was surprised at what I came to find:
A raging fire, ravenous, rebellious;
Such passion I did not expect
To radiate from the silly, young boy that I once knew.

Coming Out Of The Broom Cupboard

Hello everyone. As many of you may, or may not, know I am pretty busy at the moment as far as university and career go. I am in the midst of setting up the first Pagan Society at Falmouth and I am now a writer for Pendle Craft magazine. Very exciting times. I’ve written about it all over Facebook and have exhausted myself in doing so. Many friends and family and general supporters were happy for my news. One such friend asked if this meant that I was finally ‘out of the closet’ about being a Witch. I find this a funny old idea, coming out of the closet. We pagan folk, often call it ‘coming out of the broom cupboard’- a funny play on words. And, after thinking about it in the shower this morning, I don’t think I was ever really in the closet.

From a young age I’d always wanted to be a witch. Back then, of course, I had no idea what real life witches were, but I knew that I had to be something. My parents had told me there were no such thing but it didn’t really stop me in believing in who, I was. I guess you could say this was the first step. Later, as I began to research around fourteen, many of you have probably read my article about  the journey I took in finding Wicca, in ‘Finding The Magick’. My best friend Caitlin, had bought me a lovely pentacle necklace for one of my birthdays. With confidence, I began to wear it in school. One girl asked about it and said she recognised it from a friend that had also been into Wicca. This was quite exciting. People began to acknowledge my beliefs and I began to acknowledge that there were other people out there that were like-minded. Between school and college, I told my friends about my beliefs and practices, and they didn’t seem to mind, or care much. It was just something that WAS. It was a part of me, it wasn’t my entire identity, just a piece.

So, after the steps that I took out of the so-called ‘Broom Cupboard’ I realised that I didn’t really need to go to the extreme of sitting my family down and having some kind of talk with them. In my eyes, I didn’t see the need to make a huge deal out of my transcendence and personal spiritual journey. It was just something that was. It’s not a secret, by any means, definitely not now, anyway. But a persons religious preferences aren’t something that need to be shared with the entire world. You don’t need to feel as though you need to have a big debate and to justify your choices. This is your life. This is my life. I chose to tell the people that were closest to me. I chose to inform those that took an interest. I didn’t want a big fuss. I wanted the personal to remain personal. I still do.

What’s important is admitting things to yourself. Admitting the truth to everyone else is less important. This going for any truth. These characteristics that make up you, are your concern. You don’t need to have a debate. You don’t need to announce your business to the world. On the other hand, if you want to throw a party because you’ve discovered another piece to the puzzle that is you, then go for it. Nothing will hold you back from either. Just make sure that you know who you are. Everyone else will catch up in the meantime. I don’t see this as being ‘in’ or ‘out’ of the Broom Cupboard. I see this as a walk across a bridge of knowledge. Each step you take to discovering who you are, in important. Others will notice. others will be there to watch your steps. Just keep going and don’t look back.

Thanks for reading guys, see you soon! x

The Lonely Lover

I saw my fair love go to sea.
It caused such unfair misery.
I crossed my fingers and prayed to God,
That he comes home less of a sod.

I love him dearly, that I do,
As colour goes, he’d be my hue.
Yet my fair love is such as ass,
His charming head is full of gas.

While he’s away, I’ll feel alone.
No texts, no calls to reach my phone.
His voice I’ll miss quite dreadfully,
That remarkable melody.

So I’ll wait here for his return,
Drinking tea from an empty urn,
With the intention that I will see
My fair love return to me

Thought Of The Day

‘Think of all the things that you could discover, if only you had the courage to look up.’

This is an idea that has resonated in my mind for years now. While walking through my home town, I had never noticed how lovely the buildings were, until one day I had decided to look up. It was from then that I discovered just how beautiful, and historic really, my home town was. It doesn’t just apply to buildings either: the sky, trees, animals- so much is up there and people rarely take the time to notice and to really appreciate what is around them. They are far too busy with their phone and devices, or are simply to scared to, in a way. Sometimes your thoughts can eat you up and force your eyes to the ground. When walking, I was guilty of staring at the ground to often, hoping that it would give me the answers that I was looking for, or that my thoughts would some how find a piece of transcendence down there. However, I find that real transcendence is actually above you. So, next time that you feel sad, or are feeling curious, or even nothing at all, lift your eyes upwards and soak up the new information around you. I bet you won’t be able to see things the same way again.

Late Night Confessions#1

I’m a moody, hormonal, young woman.

I’m a moody, hormonal, young woman.

I’m a moody, hormonal, young woman.

I’m a moody, hormonal, young woman.

I am a moody, hormonal, young woman.

I doubt everything, often and I have the emotional capacity of a small galaxy capable, provding it has the correct conditions for supporting life. I prefer those that choose not to abandon the ship wreck but I encourage those who wish to, to do it sooner rather than later. In the long run, there will be little loss to me as long as you hurry up and cut yourself loose.

Please do be aware that those that flock to me seeking guidence, seeking answers, seeking a light in this world of darkness; often end up more broken than when I first found them. I’m not saying it’s my fault but when counting my crows, there’s always one that likes to stick around to watch my misfortune. Badluck runs through my clumsy veins.  Also, Please do take the time to read my warning label when handling these fragile goods. Drop me, and you may hurt yourself on the pieces.

Lots of people see me but not many are able to see through me. So be aware that you may be something completely different when you open that bag of instant chicken noodles. You may read the name, but that doesn’t mean you know the story. I just don’t want you to realise you’re making a mistake after I am completely besotted.

An After Note On Britishness

I was quite surprised to see how well yesterday’s article had been received. I did not believe that I would have such a good day yesterday and wen I saw a just how many people came to read about Britishness, I was astonished. I was equally relieved to find that many people shared my view of Britishness as a concept and as a collection of characteristics a group of people coming from or living on this island may hold. I was also glad to hear that many people also share my crazy notion of freedom of expression and religion. The humour that I had infused in the article was generally taken pretty well. I don’t often play with humour, often finding that things are much funnier when I say them out loud. I would like to therefore thank every one of you that had come over, and hopefully, found pleasure in the reading.

I’m writing this after note for those that perhaps didn’t understand my point, those who didn’t get the humour and were perhaps offended by my piece. This after note is, perhaps a revised statement of the post that I had written about in yesterday’s article. I do not apologise for sharing my opinion, and I do not apologise for having such an opinion. Do I apologise for insulting those that had insulted me? Only a little. I apologise for sinking down a level, while at the same time feeling proud that I was able to pull it off (in most regards) to a pretty high level of wit. It would have taken a lot of foul language and perhaps even threats, to have properly sunken down to the level of those that I had written about. A comment made about the article had quite struck a cord with me, and that was one of the reasons for me writing this after word- because I am better informed than most on that page. That’s not me being arrogant, that’s just me not admitting that a religion and the people that follow it do not scare me. Violence and terrorism scare me, this is true. I can admit that, but I am able to distinguish between terrorists and generally quiet people that just want to survive like the rest of us. I’m able to keep a clear judgement and I have trust that our government and our armed forces will not let tyrants into our country. There are people that aren’t necessarily as educated, that still share my belief. It’s a common pagan belief- To Live and Let Live. If a person beliefs do not strictly affect you. If someone is not hurting you or your loved one, then there is no reason to have hate. There is no reason to get in the way of someone’s happiness because it is not in the same form as yours. There are also people who are as educated as I am and have opposite views. This is ok too. I’m not going to slander your name because you don’t agree with what I’m saying. You’re not a bad person for being afraid, for being set in your ways, for being a cynic. You’re a bad person if you wish harm upon innocent people and you go out of your way to attack people. There is an unspoken code about expressing your opinion. If you’re going to sound like a douchebag, don’t say it. Keep it to yourself and spare peoples feelings. You aren’t the only human being on this planet.

Gosh this keyboard is awful to write on.

I’m currently at university and, in my class about Genre and Form, had spoken about the post I had written about yesterday. My lecturer was intrigued and I was glad that she happened to also share my ideas opinions. She talked about the past reflecting the future and about the importance on picking up these temporal markers. These temporal markers of the past influencing the future is exactly what I had spoken about yesterday when talking about ‘British Pride’ Facebook pages in the context of Adolf Hitler and World War Two. If these things are not addressed. If people don’t write about it; if people don’t comment on these posts, then we are damning ourselves all over again. We might as well build the concentration camps ourselves. We, level headed people, might as well import guns and put them in the hands of our loved ones. That’s the kind of future that this kind of behaviour has me imagining. One where, our great country, is torn apart by bombs and war, just like Syria is. Only, the Muslisms and immigrants wouldn’t have started it. We would have, out of fear and prejudice. These two things are what blind people from truth. How did the German Worker’s Party get away with their evolution and the mass genocide of millions of Jews? The same way groups such as ‘Britain First’ are able to exist. They exploit your fear; they misinform you and they make you angry. They make you so angry that you want to generalise a whole population of people that you have never met before. They make you want to hurt people and burn down sacred places. Before you know it, that’s what will happen.

I’m keeping this short (if that is what this is) and I will sign off here. Have a lovely day and i will see you later x

Untitled #2

I’m a drunken tom cat

Staggering through the alley

I see stars

Black against the night sky

Haunting this ever present silence.

I’m the ugly wretch

Begging on the street

With this ever present hunger

No food to eat

No kind souls to meet.

I’m the love sick teenager

Sporting my heart on my sleeve

Praying for the prince

That will never come.

I’m the abandoned child

Hoping for a home

Wishing for a family

Praying for a love they never had before.

I’m the fool on a pack of cards

Picking paths that aren’t theirs to walk

Causing laughter when there is only pain.

I Promise You This

I will not break.

I will rise through these flames.

I will not die.

I will live on in immortal fame.

I will not allow you to bury me alive.

For, I will survive.

I will fight for my life,

I will run.

I will scream and I’ll shout,

I won’t come undone.

I won’t let you wound me.

For, I’m a God, you see.

I will not be bound.

I will fly free.

I will not suffer.

I will continue to be.

I will not allow you to hurt me this way.

For, I will have the last say.

I will work hard to succeed.

I will soar.

I will sing and I’ll dance.

I will show you more.

I won’t be outdone.

For, I outshine the sun.

I will not be made to feel small.

I will grow.

I will not be made to cower.

I will reap what I sow.

I will not fall down.

For, I am not a clown.

I will not be your creation.

I will not be your slave.

I will not be your pet.

For, I am something you have never met.