She's a Witch

If I lived in Salem in 1692, I would have been burned at the stake

If I lived in Salem in 1692
I would have been burned at the stake
for frolicking in the woods under the moonlight,
and challenging misogyny for society’s sake.

I’d rage against oppression,
(not just once a month, but constantly),
and weep for the beauty of the universe,
(not just in fleeting moments, but perpetually).

My aura would radiate spectral evidence
from laughing in the face of tradition,
while my body would stir personal grievances,
stoked by my haters’ envious admissions.

The words from my mouth would make the townspeople gasp,
so potent they’d call them spells,
and my intellect would breed suspicion,
my “fragile” soul marked for the fiery depths of hell.

I would spit on the doorstep of conformity,
and the fashion sins of those stupid hats.
Surely, I’d be accused of conspiring
in the ladies’ circle, whispered chats.

I would lead a revolt of those who take no shit
racing towards a more inclusive community,
and if hell is as fun as they make it seem,
I’m sure the devil would grant me immunity.

In my arms, I’d hold my fellow dissenters,
sheltering them in my treacherous embrace,
and when they came with the stakes in hand,
I’d greet the flames with fury and grace.

For even in ash, my voice would linger,
haunting the walls they built to contain me,
and centuries later, they’d find my words
still carving freedom into the bones of history.

The only structure still standing in Salem, Mass., with a direct connection to the witchcraft trials is the Witch House, built circa 1675. The Witch House was once the home of Witch Trials Judge Jonathan Corwin.