Fragrances and oils,
With roots infused.
Candles,
Incantations
Pheromones
Sigils
Declarations
Motes it be
That never came to be.

Hurts to admit,
I am a failed witch.
Promises
That never came to pass.

Melted wax,
Yellow papers
weathered from time and moisture.
Stored herbs
Prepared bottles
standing there collecting dust
In the end I never got my wish.

It was necessary
I kept telling myself.
I would never attain a life partner otherwise.

The idea of a willing partner
Walking life alongside me
Was a self comforting myth.
A summit I would never reach.
A sadistic lie
A bittersweet hope.

I accepted that I had to steal what I wanted.
Because it was common knowledge
It would never come to me
out of its own free will.

I had to resort to smoky illusions
To blindfold my desire
Into believing
I was its one and only.
Because I knew that I want
Would never want me back.

I stand here a fool
A decade of solitude and treason.
I didn't get the prize
But I got the debt and punishment.
I wanted to steal
Others stole from me
I wanted to lie
I was lied to.

Awful, pitiful sorceress.
A decade of loneliness.

Broke divine commandments
For the chance to hear 'I love you'

Ten birthdays
With no fanfare
Ten Valentines
With no sweethearts

Fancy, romantic dresses in my closet
That may or may not ever see the light of day.

Beauty doesn't buy love
I found out the hard way
The Devil is a liar
Who never fulfills promises.

I am no witch
All I can give is bad juju.
My oils must be expired,
My roots must be rotten,
My verses written incorrectly
My suspension of disbelief not credible enough
For my hoodoo is no good.

How humbling and embarrassing
To be so hopeless
That not even the underworld can help.

The lesson is imprinted and learned.
Don't break the commandments again baby girl.
Don't covet
Don't try to steal what isn't yours
Hands off the forbidden.

Don't call the underworld again
You don't have the eyes to see
And ears to hear.
The Underworld cares not for you.
It only wants to steal your soul from God.

An entire decade
An entire life
My bad hoodoo can't help me
Is there any hope for me?

I hear the clock tick
I see my monthly bleed

I dream of my desire chosing me willingly.

I have no choice.
As a witch, I would starve.

My sigil must've gotten lost in translation
In some spiritual plane.
My target's mental Wi Fi
Was most likely deactivated
Because no devices were paired with mine.

The hoodoo life didn't chose me.

That in itself
Was a blessing in disguise.

Undying resolve the day of
Guilt and heavy conscience the next.

Not cut out for this life.

Wasted spells.

I loved the idea of having control over my life.
Over my future
The guarantee that one day I would be a bride.
The guarantee that one day,
My womb would hold and nurture life.

Was it moral?
No
Was it ethical?
Of course it wasn't

But to a fragile mind
It was a better alternative than to be left wondering about the tomorrows.












© Elsbeth Mareile G.C.