Healing Without Apology

Oh Gods, the hurt, it’s dizzying ….. The song came on, it had been ages, yet once it started, there I was, the door kicked open. Back to where I could feel the magic that once existed, back to where pieces of my heart and soul had been sacrificed on the Timeless Altar of Everything.

Feeling so broken and pieced out, every ounce of courage I had at the time, to push it all away, the music, the verse, the intense joy within the circle that had been created, every bit of strength to slam that door shut. I could not hear the music with out feeling the blood drain away from me. The loss of magic, cruelly stolen. I can not look at the verses that had been written. To try to remember the joy, with out feeling the loss is a futile effort. Time does not heal wounds, it allows for scar tissue to grow thick, to dull the pain that will always be there.

The next song starts. For a brief time I had been seen, (had I?) only to be cast unwhole back into the shadows. To once again fight to repair myself, questioning the point of it. Watching the monsters rising from my blood and fragments of who I thought I was. Hot tears, burning my cheeks as I screamed to the Ether- demanding to understand why? Only echos from my monsters coming back in return, had my spirit had been broken for nothing more than sport?

For a long time, I couldn’t. Not the music, not the words, not the contentment of exploring the Divine magic. Sometimes I think I had met the Devil and fate was sealed when he looked me in the eye and called me Witch. Even now it steals my breath. So many unfinished words, unfinished spells, unfinished………

Another song begins. It feels as though I am late to this vision. The Tower breaking sent me running for cover, placing the old shell of who I was, firmly around me. Retreating, pretending to heal. It has only been the last few risings of Mother Moon and time at the Altar of Everything that I can now begin to see through the fog.

It was never about that. I see now the destruction was inevitable, if not that Devil, then another would have appeared. It was about unbecoming, to rise again. It was about breaking away from the chains that held me down. It is about casting the spells for myself alone. The words that tattoo my soul that need to make it to paper to speak my truth, mine alone.

The last song plays. Oh Gods the pain……the dizziness swirling around my head. Truths mixed with lies, spells and curses alike tied up in what was and what is to become. There will always be the unfinished, there will always be bittersweet sadness. This now will get laid on the Altar of Everything. The rubble of the Tower still smoking after all this time. Finally discarding the shell. This Witch may be scarred, still bloody, but my sight is getting clearer. The human heart will heal, the scars will thicken. I don’t need the Devil to tell me who I am. I don’t need the chorus to tell me who I am not. I am. Is all any of them need to know