I ATE THE POISONED APPLE
“That girl is poison...”
— Bel Biv DeVoe
I ate the poisoned apple,
And I didn’t die.
Rather, I learned to communicate with the Serpent. And remembered that being human is the honour of being a servant to beasts, plants, land and air, and not the other way around.I ate the poisoned apple,
And I didn’t die.
Rather, I understand the value of approving myself than continue to chase the fickle approval of others. That liking myself is based on unconditional trust in myself, and that like-ability cannot be earned or lost. That beauty is indeed always in the eye of the beholder— and by eating the poison, I learned how to become the subject of my own gaze, rather than seeking to be an object for a man.I ate the poisoned apple,
And I didn’t die.
I learned that though liberation can be experienced through restraint — “I am that which I’m not”, I can also experience liberation through ecstasy — “I am that which I am”. That pleasure, joy, play, wildness, sweetness, and laughter are qualities of a magick practitioner.I ate the poisoned apple,
And I didn’t die.
I dined with the Divine. We danced, foreplayed, and loved in bed. She was still there in the morning because the Divine isn’t “out there”. She’s here. Right here.I ate the poisoned apple,
And I didn’t die.
But what did die was me knowing things. Instead, I let the Unknown in, along with the irrational, the inexplicable, the strange, and the weird. I ate the poisoned apple,
And I didn’t die.
Because I’m a witch.
Samhain blessings, dear beloved witches, beneath the Blue Moon. May the poisoned apple be your medicine.
Mimi XO
founder, spirit communicator + shamanic intuitive
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