I remember the day you said,
"I'm wiccan, not a witch"
And broke the fragile sugar-spun castle
That all my beliefs sat happily in
Because you wouldn't fit neatly
In any of the boxes I'd made for them

You smiled, and went back to writing
Oblivious to the fact that your words
Were grinding up my present faith
And tearing off the life-preserver
I'd worn to stay safe in that horrible place
Made for our "education"

I died, revived, and died again
Over and over as faith and friendship
Drew lines in the sand
And commenced a tug-of-war
Using my sanity as a fragile rope
While I watched, crying

Good people go to Heaven
Christians go to Heaven
Therefore, Christians are good people
Bad people go to Hell
People who aren't Christians go to Hell
So, people who aren't Christians are bad

Guilt and triumph by property of equality
Everything laid (lied) nice and neat
In the box my Bible came in
Until you came in
With your gentle smile
Too sweet and kind to fit

You made me question the leash
That kept me fastened in so-called "grace"
Enough to read the directions
"Use with prejudice only"
If found the buckle that fastened the collar
And learned there was more than just my yard

Counting the years by spells and charms
Still makes your voice echo
From the canyon of memories
When you rattled and broke the ice bars
That kept me in a self-righteous cage
That I thought I was meant to be inside

I can't remember if I thanked
The little girl you were
Or if I ever told her what she did
But now you know
Why I'll always love that little girl
And love the woman she has become

I love you

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