Eviction Notice

I’ve been renting out my space.

Sovereignty is total control over my own body, my own life, my mental and spiritual space. It’s what I aspire to in my worship of The Morrigan; it’s what I’m supposed to do for Her. She wants a tool that is sovereign; one that’s untainted by others’ energies and maliciousness. (The same idea for my own tools — I’m not happy when someone else’s energy gets on them.)

And I’ve been renting out my space.

I do this too often. And the tenants have left a mess for me to clean up.

I’m tired of being a landlady. For all I give them, they give shit back.

The land of my life is tired and broken. It grows nothing. I am barren, a wasteland wrought by people’s greed. There isn’t even any rain anymore, because it takes too much energy to cry.

All I can do is post an eviction notice.

Knock, knock. Your time using me up is done. Get out. 

Author: Morag

Morag Spinner is a writer, a witch, and an activist (sometimes all three) living in British Colmbia, Canada. Zie's fat and genderqueer, and zie crafts all manner of things, from spell jars to duct tape bags to shawls to blankets to random bits of kitsch. Zie's obsessed with chocolate and listens to far too much Evanescence.

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