poetry, Uncategorized

the truth 

Today, I cried for myself for the first time since last year.

This is not a poem about strength or optimistic hope. It’s a poem about how my tears tasted like

before, before, before.

It’s a poem about how I can’t even remember what before was because I spent the last eight months carving it out of my chest with the serrated edge of a Jack bottle.

I cried for before because I was someone who spoke in cotton candy and sunsets instead of with acid and cyanide. I cried for the fact that I finally, finally resemble myself but I traded the tissue between my ribs for gasoline

and smoke

and anger.

I cried for the gashes down my shoulder blades where feathers used to be.

I cried for how sharp I wear my grief and my fingernails; I cried for the phantom pain where I clawed holes around my sides.

I cried for how I carry violence between my fingers instead of gentleness; for the fact that I didn’t know how to stop giving so I became a husk, a hurricane, the snapping of jaws.

I cried for the loss of companionship, the what-ifs, the potentials. I cried because the one who lived in before would have snatched her clawless hands at any kind of love and I just scare it away. I cried for the fact that family tastes like blood pooling in my mouth, like getting curb stomped.

I cried because autumn is running away, taking my ability to change, and leaving a casket with the bones of before rattling around in my jaw.

I cried for my curled lip, a raised eyebrow. I cried because I am apathetic, unapologetic, choleric. I cried for the hours I’ve spent chasing pain like it’s my own tail because my patron saint has fallen. I cried because before was a land of so much catharsis and now there are want and fear battling inside my veins.

I cried because it feels like I am being followed by my own shadow and she is not happy to have met me.

I will never cry for myself again.

(who would cry for something that sold their soul for an oil spill)



personal, Uncategorized

Perks of Being Friends With a Witch

  • We always have sage, palo santo, or Florida water on us at all times. Does your apartment have weird vibes? We got you, bro.
  • Speaking of things we carry with us at all the time, the number of crystals a witch will hoard in their car / house / bra / shoes is fucking insane. The good news is that crystals are great for a multitude of reasons, including throwing them at other humans.
  • You’ll quickly find that urban witches are the tits because we’re fantastically gifted at improvising, you’ll also find that traditional witches are also the tits because they are more than likely to have everything you need on hand.
  • We have a plethora of jars and candles; don’t ask, just accept.
  • Witches are some of the best friends to have since we see magic in the smallest of acts; the bass in a car thumping inside your chest, throwing your head back from laughter, and quiet nights at home are all magical to us. We find magic in everything.
  • Tarot cards, all the tarot cards. I personally carry a deck with me at all times since I never know when I or a loved one is going to need a reading.
  • Edgier witches will fuck someone up for you 24/7, kinder witches will passive aggressively remove them from your life.
  • We’re sentimental as fuck and appreciate homemade gifts more than anything. We know the kind of love it takes to make something for another person. In other words, we’re a cheap date and we don’t expect much for Christmas.
  • In relation to the last bullet point, we celebrate everything. Some of us celebrate in more subtle ways, some of us gather the whole coven and throw a party. Enjoy your new found insanity.
  • We’ll invite you for tea and draw sigils in your cup.
  • Have you been having a weird month? Ask your neighborhood witchcraft practitioner about it! There’s probably a planet in retrograde or a full moon and you bet your sweet ass that we have a crystal for that.
  • We memorize our friends’ and family members’ birth charts. You’ll never have a friend who knows you as thoroughly as a witch.
  • We like to go on unique dates; cemeteries, bodies of water, antique stores, and forests are all places that we thrive in and will invite you to.
  • So many books on so many magical topics. So many, send help.
  • Most witches have a familiar so you get two for the price of one!
  • You’ll get a lot of “I can tell something is going on with you, let’s meet up” text messages
  • Kitchen witches make bomb food with a fucking purpose!
  • If you have a spirit in your home, your witch friend will probably be able to feel something strange upon their first visit and depending on your personal beliefs, they will be happy to communicate with and/or remove it.
  • Random, peculiar gifts. Don’t ask, Sharon, just put the crow’s foot in your pocket.
  • Every witch is different, you’ll never meet one who is exactly like another. Collect them all! The possibilities are endless!


Be friends with a fucking witch, you won’t be disappointed.


That’s all there is,

The Book Witch

personal, Uncategorized

see you on the streets

They told me that growing up with mental illness can affect how you view the world as an adult; the smallest acts of bravery, of cunning, of strength can leave someone tormented by their own demons a little breathless.

In my opinion, it makes people like me, who struggle to find sleep over the sound of doubt, more able to see small pieces of magic woven into the thread of my life.

Here’s a secret: I firmly believe there is something magical about cars, especially my car. When I saw it, after weeks of back-and-forth with the dealership, I knew something was so strangely me about that car, I needed to drive it. Since leaving the lot with the keys in my hand, I have given my black Nissan Juke the name Regulus Kavinsky. Tomorrow, I go to the DMV to pick up my custom license plates with GRYWRN in Tahoe blue letters.

I have always been weirdly attached to the things that I drive; I have given them all names and cooed to them lovingly from the driver’s seat. My first car, a forest green 2002 Jeep Cherokee was called Bessie. I taped a sheet of paper with rules to the dashboard in order to give passengers ample heads up that I wouldn’t tolerate being treated like a taxi, a trash can, or given any bullshit about my driving.

The last car I drove before Kavinsky was a silver Ford Explorer, nicknamed Smeagol – I always imagined that if that fucking monstrosity could speak, it would be a horrible, wretched noise. I punched the radio hard enough to break my skin and damage the screen.

Kavinsky, on the other hand, is much less aggravating. There is a sensation that I get when I top one-hundred miles per hour in that car, switching between manual and automatic seamlessly. It’s an emptiness in my chest, a void where the sadness and anger usually sit like scavengers waiting for prey. I drove out to a lake last night, a lake filled with ley lines and irate spirits. Kavinsky was immobilized by the thin sand and my sister pushed him out while my feet were introducing the floor to the gas pedal. He is now coated with a layer of pale Nevada dust and my anxiety sits in the passenger seat in place of a shrewd Scorpio woman.

“Your car has tattoos, just like you,” my dad had said when I showed him around. My car is an extension of myself. A heart outside my own body. There is a large green Slytherin vinyl on the back window, surrounded carefully by Latin words, song lyrics, and Ouija planchettes. I have stored maps in the glove box and emergency kits in the trunk because there is always time to seek adventure or to be a menace. My camera, Dick III, anticipates trips to graveyards and tattoos shops from his seat in the back. My fur-child has left herself all over Kavinsky, as well – there are window markings and enough hair to assemble another dog.

Johnny Cash and Imagine Dragons and Kurt Cobain come with me on coffee runs. The scent of autumn and hemp leaves permeate the seats, a residual scent from either my fingertips or my soul. There are books, stacks and stacks of books, and headphones scattered throughout the interior.  I sit and whisper away, away, away as I go, with tears streaming down my face and shaking hands on the wheel. The deterioration of my control is a devil on my shoulder, a blessing and a curse. I carry crystals in the doors and tarot cards in my purse. A large white text saying “Go Smudge Yourself” warns other drivers that I carry the power of the dead and the moon under the circles beneath my eyes.

My godmother has the same car and I tell her secrets while we color my hair black to match my wardrobe and Kavinsky’s paint. There is a ballad written about him, dedicated by a tenant above my work who was sworn into my servitude in exchange for leaving an inch long, unseeable scrape on the left-hand side. I was, surprisingly, never mad about that incident – because now I have a friend who writes songs about my car and I am almost always covered in bruises and scrapes; it would make sense that Kavinsky would need some, too.

A car is a second home. A car is just a moving piece of magic.


That’s all there is,

The Book Witch



Some Thoughts on Soulmates

“People think a soul mate is your perfect fit, and that’s what everyone wants. But a true soul mate is a mirror, the person who shows you everything that is holding you back, the person who brings you to your own attention so you can change your life.

A true soul mate is probably the most important person you’ll ever meet, because they tear down your walls and smack you awake. But to live with a soul mate forever? Nah. Too painful. Soul mates, they come into your life just to reveal another layer of yourself to you, and then leave.

A soul mates purpose is to shake you up, tear apart your ego a little bit, show you your obstacles and addictions, break your heart open so new light can get in, make you so desperate and out of control that you have to transform your life, then introduce you to your spiritual master…” – Elizabeth Gilbert

As you can tell, I read a lot. I’ve thumbed through the pages of books that have characters in them who claim to be “soulmates” and, to be honest, I hate that fucking word. I do! I think its a horrible, limited way of describing your love for someone. I think people say soulmates because they lack a better term for it. Maybe they’re trying to say “My soul was at peace when I met them” or “Our eyes locked and I saw myself in the depths” or “I have never loved anything this monumentally”


I am so fortunate to have more than one soulmate, and though it sounds hypocritical, I say “soulmate” because I lack the vocabulary to explain how I feel. I never met a romantic soulmate of mine and I doubt I ever will. I had a couple soulmates who happen to be men and we fucked everything up by trying to be more. I miss them, every day. I miss how easy it was to talk to them before we “dated” and now that we’ve been inevitably together and gone separate ways, I know that I can never have them back in the way that I did. I don’t know if that’s selfish but I think it might be. I just wish I still had their friendship without all the strange moments of “What are we?”

I have other soulmates. I have a best friend who appreciates that I was probably supposed to be a mix of Hermione and Luna but someone decided I’d have more fun as a hybrid of Bellatrix Lestrange and Remus Lupin. It’s been great, thanks.  I work with a girl who makes my heart feel calm whenever I see her. I work with girls who challenge me and understand me and push me. They are all my soulmates. The ones who push me radiate violet, and if I believed in the strings of fate, I think heavy, purple cords would connect us. I’ve had soulmates who broke my heart and left me bleeding all kinds of colors. They remind me of small cherry threads that I will have to cut someday to fully heal. I can feel the cracks in my chest that they left as if they were palpable. I have soulmates that I don’t speak to, out of respect for myself. I have soulmates that I have nightmares of running into and wake up with ghosts of tears on my face.

I have never done things halfway – especially love. As someone who is drained by social interaction and needs to pick her accomplices very carefully, I am either 100% invested in you, or not at all. Don’t come into my life with the intention of giving minimal effort; I carry scissors with me at all times and I will cut the ties that bind us before you knew they were there.

I can recognize my soulmates by one thing: I don’t have to dumb myself down for them. That is the only way that I’ve learned to survive in a world that rejects intelligent women: deny, deny, deny that you are one. I don’t mean to sound egotistical, but I am a woman of high intelligence and survival instincts like you wouldn’t believe. I know that to keep myself out of trouble, I stay cute and sweet and then destroy if I am crossed. My soulmates have never made me doubt my worth, have never made me question my intelligence. They’ve made me question my views, my priorities, and my footing – but never the things that come intrinsically to who I am.


I’ve read so many books where the narrator has said that the person felt like nothing else mattered after meeting this one person, that their lives improved tenfold. I am here to tell you that soulmates are not some shiny package containing the answers to our questions. They are the shakers, the movers, the destroyers of our lives. You will meet them on coffee dates and some of them will only be available for late-night adventures. You’ll find that at least one will hate your taste in music or will be disgusted with how you prepare your tea. They will insert themselves into the marrow of your bones and you will wonder how you were missing such a vital piece all along. I have a soulmate who is three years old and has taught me more about understanding and empathy than anyone else I have known. I had a soulmate die and take half of me with her. They are not here to make things perfect, they are here to show you that life is so much better when it’s messy.

Carry on,

The Book Witch



The Book Witch’s Book Challenge

Hello, friends!

I thought it would be a rad idea to share my 2017 Book Challenge with you. I’m trying to read 60 books this year, which is a low number for me, but with all my other shit going on, it’s been hard to find the time to read. As a way to reach my goal with less anxiety, I wrote my own Book Challenge so that I can check off certain prompts and premises as I go along.

Feel free to add or remove your own in accordance to your interests, I tried to keep things relatively broad; let me know if you check anything off your reading list using this challenge!

  • A nonfiction book
  • A book published in the last year (pretty sure I’ll be checking this off with The Bone Witch or A Court of Wings and Ruin)
  • A book by someone who isn’t an author (I’m like 1/2 way through Anna Kendrick’s autobiography and it’s super funny)
  • A recommendation (I will be getting to Garth Nix’s Abhorsen trilogy…I’m so sorry it took me a year, Megan.
  • An award winning book (I’m looking at you Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe) 
  • A book with a one-word title
  • A book with a number in the title (I’M DOING THIS ONE RIGHT NOW)
  • A book on your TBR (if this prompt seems like it crawled up from a hole of chaos and despair, that’s because it did. Surprise!)
  • a book about / based around mythology (Wanted: Hades & Persephone smut)
  • a book about food
  • a book you bought on a trip (Fun fact: I bought Red Queen on a trip to Carmel and I’m starting a read-along with a Facebook group on February 1st! If anyone needs more incentive to read, let me know and I’d be happy to start a book-club)
  • a book with a pseudonym
  • a book about the ocean
  • a book of poetry
  • a book about best friends
  • a thriller


It’s more for when I hit a book slump and need a boost. Checking things off of lists is one way I can always ensure my motivation. I figure when I check all of these off, I can rewrite another list… and another… and another… If you have any suggestions or you plan on using this as a guideline, let me know! I always have recommendations for those of us who need more of an excuse to buy books.

Speaking of buying books… I did a thing. Hint: I bought books.

I jumped on that Coleen Hoover bandwagon and everyone has been telling me to read Truthwitch because it’s similar to ToG; I finished the third book in that series yesterday and my life is in shambles. I got Shade Me because its about synethsia, which I have, and its a thriller. Playlist for the Dead sounds sad as fuck and has a musical premise, which is one of my favorite things ever. 

I heard back about my laptop today, there’s no estimate for when it will be back BUT I don’t have to pay for the replacement parts because of warranties, yay!

Soon, I’ll be able to upload pictures from my big girl camera.

I hope everyone has a great weekend.

Carry on,

The Book Witch


Day 6 & 7 of 30 Days of Book Reviews

Hey everyone!

I’m going to try something new, a post where I review two separate books – and compare and contrast them. I’m trying this for two different reasons: because I haven’t read them in a while and I don’t remember enough minute details to really get into them and because I like to challenge myself.

So today, I present you with the combined reviews of An Abundance of Katharines and The Forest of Hands and Teeth, two very popular YA books.

Overall (for both of them!): 6/10 


(For AAOC)

Katherine V thought boys were gross. Katherine X just wanted to be friends. Katherine XVIII dumped him in an e-mail

K-19 broke his heart

When it comes to relationships, Colin Singleton’s type happens to be girls named Katherine. And when it comes to girls named Katherine, Colin is always getting dumped. Nineteen times, to be exact.
On a road trip miles from home, this anagram-happy, washed-up child prodigy has ten thousand dollars in his pocket, a bloodthirsty feral hog on his trail, and an overweight, Judge Judy-loving best friend riding shotgun–but no Katherines. Colin is on a mission to prove The Theorem of Underlying Katherine Predictability, which he hopes will predict the future of any relationship, avenge Dumpees everywhere, and finally win him the girl.
Love, friendship, and a dead Austro-Hungarian archduke add up to surprising and heart-changing conclusions in this ingeniously layered comic novel about reinventing oneself.

(& for FOHAT)

In Mary’s world there are simple truths. The Sisterhood always knows best. The Guardians will protect and serve. The Unconsecrated will never relent. And you must always mind the fence that surrounds the village; the fence that protects the village from the Forest of Hands and Teeth. But, slowly, Mary’s truths are failing her. She’s learning things she never wanted to know about the Sisterhood and its secrets, and the Guardians and their power, and about the Unconsecrated and their relentlessness. When the fence is breached and her world is thrown into chaos, she must choose between her village and her future—between the one she loves and the one who loves her. And she must face the truth about the Forest of Hands and Teeth. Could there be life outside a world surrounded by so much death?

Plot: One is lighthearted and quirky, the other is dark and apocalyptic. I love the unique stories that both of these book are based around. John Green can take a completely mundane situation, like a roadtrip or a breakup, seem like a complete existential adventure. Ryan has the ability to take a grim situation and add more twisted details to make it even more captivating. They’re definitely both easier reads; some parts of FOHAT hurt a bit but the rest of the book is fairly simple. I love John Green’s work but this one was one that settled further down the list of favorites and when I read the second installment of FOHAT, it completely disillusioned me from the first book. I strongly recommend them to people who enjoy YA and love stories or coming-of-age novels. Also, zombies and nerds are totally fucking awesome. The plot of AAOK is interesting, but a little odd. I adore the main character but really? He’s dated nineteen Katharines? Not that its not totally plausible but it’s not exactly an attention  grabber and it’s kind of corny, in a bad way. I love the concept of the zombie-riddled world that Mary lives in and that religion is the focal point behind their society’s structure. We never really find out if it’s set in an earlier time period or if we revert back to old ways in her reality, so have fun with that.

Characters: Okay, so here’s the thing. I’m not in love with the plot of AAOK but I adore the main character, Quentin. While I love the plot of FOHAT, the main character is extremely hard for me to like. She’s not a very strong woman, and it’s easy to forgive her for that given her circumstances but also, I don’t want to forgive her because she is impossible to be involved with. Another neat contrast is that AAOK has a very interesting romantic background and then there’s a heart breaking love triangle in FOHAT. Love triangles, are again, my shit.

Ending: I found both the endings to be pretty satisfying! A little sad, but they weren’t cliffhangers of doom, either. Again, not in my top ten, but still good reads!

I mean, who can avoid sweet nerds like Quentin who say marveolous statements like

‘Books are the ultimate Dumpees: put them down and they’ll wait for you forever; pay attention to them and they always love you back.’

or a book that has this in it:

Suddenly, all I can think about are all the things I don’t know about him. All the things I never had time to learn. I don’t know if his feet are ticklish or how long his toes are. I don’t know what nightmares he had as a child. I don’t know which stars are his favorites, what shapes he sees in the clouds. I don’t know what he is truly afraid of or what memories he holds closest.
And I don’t have enough time now, never enough time. I want to be in the moment with him, feel his body against mine and think of nothing else, but my mind explodes with grief for all that I am missing. All that I will miss. All that I have wasted.

Carry on,

The Book Witch



the gamer & the librarian || a glimpse into the crystal ball

“These two, especially if the Sun-Moon relationship between them is strong and positive, can exist almost in a world of their own, held together by a communication of the senses surpassing anything an Air or Fire sign could imagine. Few human experiences of sharing are more comforting than the physical demonstration of love between a Bull and a Fish, without questioning their mutual need, only desiring to answer it” – Linda Goodman; Linda Goodman’s Love Signs 

This post could otherwise be titled “the healer & the writer”, “the protector & the dreamer” or “the realist & the mystic”


I wanted to write a post about my dream home… and then I wanted to write a post about birth charts… and then I wanted to write a post about marriage… so in a fit of genius and a bit of “fuck that”, I decided to throw them all in a cauldron and to write a post that focuses on how I want my marriage to be in 5 years.  After pondering on that topic for a couple minutes, I thought that it was a great way to immortalize how I feel as 2016 comes to a close. I also believe that this is a topic that all couples should explore, to mesh some goals and figure out a timeline for certain life aspects they’d like to have worked out. Side-note: I intend on sharing this with Jason later, after it’s published. We already have a five-year plan posted in our bedroom as a reminder of our goals but this is going to be much more specific to my actual visualization of our future.


If you’re familiar with birth charts like I am, you’re probably looking at this and going “Holy shit (some of you might be a bit more eloquent than I), a lot of your planets are in similar signs.” Yes, we have elemental compatibility in all of our planets except our Jupiters. Some of our Houses are in disharmony but we have a solid amount of positive squares, trines, and sextiles to balance it out. If you have no clue what the fuck is going on, let me tell you a thing: don’t worry about it, just know that the quote above applies to Jason and I – that’s all you need to take away from this.

Jason and I have been together almost five years, so by the time this post is chronologically saavy – these goals would have been ten years in the making. Five years is a lot of time for growth and change; there’s so much room for improvement or deterioration. I hope this post gives a little insight as to what a lot of long-term relationships are like – there is always work to be done. Even couples who have rock-solid foundations and who appear completely unshakeale are constantly at work with their significant other.

So here you go – How I Want My Marriage to be in Five Years


I can not put enough emphasis on this one and I put it as first as a reason. I have learned that relationships will not thrive if you do not support your significant other. I’m not talking about an apathetic “sure, babe. that’s neat” – I’m talking about a “YES THATS MY BEST FRIEND YOU GO BEST FRIEND” kind of support. Like, a strong enough support that it gives you confidence in yourself. In a stroke of good luck, I found a human who is so immesely supportive of my goals and interests that I fell in love with him more because of it. He’s all “You wanna open an etsy to do tarot readings and birth charts? Yeah, when are you gonna start?” and “You wanna start doing photography? Can I help you research cameras?” I want to nurture this aspect of my realtionship until people are absolutely disgusted by how supportive we are. Having a supportive partner is like having this mutipurpose magic wand that can be a ladder on the good days, a safety net on the bad days, and a mega phone on the in between days. It’s a blessing and I encourage everyone in a relationship to support the fuck out of each other and for my single readers to seek for someone who will be your support, no matter how obscure you think your goals are.


I also have this aspect of my wants already in play, hallelujah – praise whoever. Fullfilling relationships, in my definition, are ones that make you feel whole. This person and this life you live with them fills in your puzzle pieces. You found pieces of yourself that you didn’t know you were missing and now all these beautiful parts of you are coming to life because of your relationship. Before Jason, I didn’t think I would ever enjoy little things like spending Saturdays in bed – Pause, for the record, I’ve always been extemely introverted but I’ve always been a very nervous introvert and therefore, lazy afternoons were nightmares come to life – or cooking or just being myself. My relatioship has made me, much more me-ish. Once I started dating Jay, I was always finding myself saying things like “Ah yes, there’s that missing piece of my soul”. Again, another quality that I hope to nourish and keep alive for many, many years.


Oh boy, I’ve got a love/hate relationship with this one. I deeply, truly find my fiance’s intelligence to be an aspect of him that I pop a lady boner for on a daily basis… however, I do NOT pop lady boners for his stuborness and unyeilding nature. I love the fact that we can have intellectual discussions, but some topics are super off limits for us because I’m a sensitive little shit. (Fun fact: Us Slytherins are actually 20% dark humor, 30% intolerance for stupidity, and 50% too many feels) I’d love to turn this around into something that we can both be happy with – a place where we can talk about subjects like rape, I don’t automatically assume that he’s going to make me cry, and he doesn’t feel guilty for bringing it up in the first place. I don’t mean its bad to be sensitive about rape (please, for the love of all things J.K Rowling, be sensitive about rape) but I can and will shut down, instead of staying rational. I love that Jason and I are both well-versed in certain topics but we both have aspects of communication that we need to work on.


There is nothing that I enjoy more than peace and quiet; I am the sleepiest, most avoidant person I know and peace is so important to my people.  In terms of relationships, by “peaceful” I mean that we our lives are less chaotic, we have a schedule, we get to spend time together, and there’s no outside sources of conflict. I have a very large, very mixed family who doesn’t always respect personal space and Jason has family members who I want to strangle. I wish I could put that more eloquently but my patience is already so thin. I think this will really start to take place when I’m done with school, we have a permanent place to live, and we both have careers. Naturally, those are time-dependent factors, so I find my current sense of peace in staying super far away from Facebook and reminding Jason that he’s a dude, and dudes don’t really have to mediate between in-laws so just don’t piss anyone off.


Very simple — I require 48 pugs, an espresso machine, and a house far away from human beings. I currently don’t put relationhsip stuff out on social media and if I do, it’s for the sake of positivity or to give what little advicfe I have . Keep your shit off of the internet, and you won’t regret it in 3 years.


Anyway, thank you all for reading, liking, and commenting! Nothing is better than being able to pursue a passion such as writing and getting positive feedback, or any constructive feedback. It’s terrifying trying to put yourself out there to explore something you enjoy and I really appreciate all of the encouragement and love.


Happy holidays &  best wishes,

The Book Witch