#witchweird

IT WAS IMPOSSIBLE.    beyond    impossible    that    he    could    ever    see    his    fingers    ,     even    more-so   to    see    anything    above    two     feet.    there    were     joyful   tears    ,    the    grasp    of    his    family    in    his    arms.    though    as    much    as    he    enjoyed    his    time    as    a    cat    ,   salem    was    free.     free    to    be    a    warlock   ,    build    himself    back    up    and    as    always   ,    protect    sabrina.    the    spellmans    knew   his    history     with    dorcas    ,    they    also    warned   how    that    the    weird    sisters    were    not    exactly    (    faithful    )    ,    but    salem    knew    dorcas    was    different.    she    loved    the    cliche    mortal    love    and    even    though    he    was    a    warlock    ,   salem    knew    he   was    not    like    the   others.   heart   beating    fast   ,   the   warlock   stood    at   the   door   ,   hilda   gently     rubbing   his   arm   in   reassurance.         ❝         JUST NERVOUS AUNT HILDA.         ❞         taking    a    deep    breath    ,    his    tall    stature    walked    around    the    corner    ,    each   step    was    careful    before    he    had    no    more    room    to   walk.   

     A SIGH ESCAPED HIM , BROW KNIT IN ANNOYANCE . He never knew where he stood with The Weird Sisters . They were a fickle threesome . As likely to kiss one minute , only to kill the next . Though it wasn’t their cruelty that caused him discomfort . No , it was how he lost himself around them . How he was never sure if he as himself , or what they wanted him to be . Free will to him was more important than the melding of wonton limbs . And while the sight of Dorcas in her nude form was technically arousing ; it came with too many strings attached . So it became more of a bother , than a sight to enjoy . “ Yes , you are absolutely unholy to behold Dorcas . But I learned the hard way what happens to a snake  that gets curled up in your branches . Prue borrowed a grimoire I need , I’ll just come get it another time . ”

               closed starter / @witchweird

I don’t think of God as the Christian one. To me he’s everything, everywhere; he’s soft grass on your bare feet. He’s the sand between your toes. He’s the crunch of dry leaves when you walk. He’s the wind in the trees, a warm breeze, and the cold air that hurts your face. He’s butterflies, and bees, and crunchy apples. God is the sunshine and the moon and thunderstorms. So when I say “thank God” I’m thanking the universe for its gift, its protection, its love. When I pray, I’m asking the universe for answers, for strength, for rest. I’ve had relief and faith finding God where I was told was wrong. Was a sin. Wasn’t safe. Wasn’t “the way”. Leaving the church and finding God was the best thing I’ve ever done.