Walking Stick Witch
Walking Stick Witch old stories
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colleenbrennan
colleenbrennan Witch, Bitch, Queen, & Crone
Autoplay OFF   •   5 months ago
out of shape bikers pass
out of shape
bikers pass
lungs are shriveled
more like tarred
29 years of old
12th step recharge
Sunday morning meeting
Lincoln park
I needed to pull over the bike
make it look like
Intentionally
I am intentionally pulling off the trail

Grass opens and unfolds
before it kisses a concrete barge
A baby reaches out
extension of a bird's wings
white bonnet and barely walking
chubby bundle of bliss
mother makes eye contact with me
I smile
she smiles back
continues back to attack
her baby girl with kisses
i wish
my mother's love looked like that
I cringe
the thought is disgustingly uncomfortable
when I think of my mother
affectionate towards me

Out of the six
My mother least likes
I

Her mother My Ga
absolutely adored
every atom of my body
from head to feet

"YOU HAVE A VOICE OF AN ANGEL!"
She would lean down and in to say
seventh pew to that back
at
6am morning mass.
so I sang louder
never to vocally cower
it was not long after
did I feel the nails
push down my vocal chords from the
hands of
the interrogator
the critic

My mother was embarrassed
of the intuition and precocious
things I voiced

embarrassed at the sight of my clothes
in the trades
It doesn't pay to show up in heels

embarrassed no college degree was achieved

She tore down
An entire years worth
"My Senior thesis"
given through
dark room photos
Claws of a lion
her mouth foaming
like a rabid dog
In front of the other parents
aghast at the sight of her rage
I felt those nails dig further into my chords
as the episode dragged on
SHE Clawed the portraits 6ft wide and 10ft high
off the wall into ribbons they went
ripping the writings

an entire
year
in one night
jaws dropping
my teacher crying
I took a walk

demoralized
365 DAYS of
AESTHETICALLY
SACRED MATERIAL
FROM A SACRED VULNERABLE PART OF ME
that part which extends their wings
and reaches out to their mommy

"You are writing about drugs, sex, and eating disorders!
I can't imagine what other people think!"
was enough to batter me from the inside out

I don't want to think about that pain that follows me
Instead I shut my eyes
feel the sun on my face
Hello my lake Michigan

looking out at that familiar skyline
to the south west sway
I looked to my left
there on the bench...

what kind of woman is under
that large hat
few plastic bags tangled in her lap
couldn't stop from blowing away
as well as her Monet like hat
walking she came briskly over

I was too terrified
so I looked away
avoiding the chance of meeting her eyes
to connect

I don't want to die yet!!

She wore the same rugged carpenter pants
Had a progressively
why bother looking feminine look
rat-nest hair beautifully chaotic
made her beautiful to me

she grabbed her walking stick
I thought
( does she have anybody to love)
(Is there anybody who is wondering)
or
(waiting)
or
(used to co ordinating Sundays)
with this women in front of me

She hangs her head so low
walks pelvis front first
Male energy emanating
from the rest of her curves

Her pants were exactly like mine
Cargo extra pockets and cut to the ankle
so we don't trip
IT was the mere fact that she grabbed
the walking stick
did I know she was a witch
I was starring back
into the future broken
parts of me

i don't want to die
I don't want to be alone
i don't want to always be broke
I don't want to get old

I want to stay in my 20s forever
I want to live in the comforts of very little
physical pain
I want to quit smoking
I want to look into the shadow work
that is needed
to heal me

So that I don't end up alone
walking stick as my only friend
every Sunday playing with plastic bags
only to end this life
with the grave digger
to see me to the very end

I was given the walking stick to guide me where I go....
I am the mother of the abandoned children that never knew a home

Walking Stick Witch

out of shape

bikers pass

lungs are shriveled

more like tarred

29 years of old

12th step recharge

Sunday morning meeting

Lincoln park

I needed to pull over the bike

make it look like

Intentionally

I am intentionally pulling off the trail

Grass opens and unfolds

before it kisses a concrete barge

A baby reaches out

extension of a bird's wings

white bonnet and barely walking

chubby bundle of bliss

mother makes eye contact with me

I smile

she smiles back

continues back to attack

her baby girl with kisses

i wish

my mother's love looked like that

I cringe

the thought is disgustingly uncomfortable

when I think of my mother

affectionate towards me

Out of the six

My mother least likes

I

Her mother My Ga

absolutely adored

every atom of my body

from head to feet

"YOU HAVE A VOICE OF AN ANGEL!"

She would lean down and in to say

seventh pew to that back

at

6am morning mass.

so I sang louder

never to vocally cower

it was not long after

did I feel the nails

push down my vocal chords from the

hands of

the interrogator

the critic

My mother was embarrassed

of the intuition and precocious

things I voiced

embarrassed at the sight of my clothes

in the trades

It doesn't pay to show up in heels

embarrassed no college degree was achieved

She tore down

An entire years worth

"My Senior thesis"

given through

dark room photos

Claws of a lion

her mouth foaming

like a rabid dog

In front of the other parents

aghast at the sight of her rage

I felt those nails dig further into my chords

as the episode dragged on

SHE Clawed the portraits 6ft wide and 10ft high

off the wall into ribbons they went

ripping the writings

an entire

year

in one night

jaws dropping

my teacher crying

I took a walk

demoralized

365 DAYS of

AESTHETICALLY

SACRED MATERIAL

FROM A SACRED VULNERABLE PART OF ME

that part which extends their wings

and reaches out to their mommy

"You are writing about drugs, sex, and eating disorders!

I can't imagine what other people think!"

was enough to batter me from the inside out

I don't want to think about that pain that follows me

Instead I shut my eyes

feel the sun on my face

Hello my lake Michigan

looking out at that familiar skyline

to the south west sway

I looked to my left

there on the bench...

what kind of woman is under

that large hat

few plastic bags tangled in her lap

couldn't stop from blowing away

as well as her Monet like hat

walking she came briskly over

I was too terrified

so I looked away

avoiding the chance of meeting her eyes

to connect

I don't want to die yet!!

She wore the same rugged carpenter pants

Had a progressively

why bother looking feminine look

rat-nest hair beautifully chaotic

made her beautiful to me

she grabbed her walking stick

I thought

( does she have anybody to love)

(Is there anybody who is wondering)

or

(waiting)

or

(used to co ordinating Sundays)

with this women in front of me

She hangs her head so low

walks pelvis front first

Male energy emanating

from the rest of her curves

Her pants were exactly like mine

Cargo extra pockets and cut to the ankle

so we don't trip

IT was the mere fact that she grabbed

the walking stick

did I know she was a witch

I was starring back

into the future broken

parts of me

i don't want to die

I don't want to be alone

i don't want to always be broke

I don't want to get old

I want to stay in my 20s forever

I want to live in the comforts of very little

physical pain

I want to quit smoking

I want to look into the shadow work

that is needed

to heal me

So that I don't end up alone

walking stick as my only friend

every Sunday playing with plastic bags

only to end this life

with the grave digger

to see me to the very end

I was given the walking stick to guide me where I go....

I am the mother of the abandoned children that never knew a home

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