“That girl is poison…” ⁣⁣

— Bel Biv DeVoe ⁣⁣

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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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