front page of a zine called 'ergi', with runes decorating it
scold me all you like,
i will not duel you for speaking the truth.
i require no compensation,
there has occurred no defamation.
i stand proud of my seiðr,
my magic, threads and futures,
seer, witch, weaver.
with every stitch and every candle,
every sigil and every word,
i gain power, and i know that is feared.
a niðing; a villain,
i have murdered my past self,
i killed them with what is called poison,
and to me is akin to Iðunn's apples.
i've been told this is why i am a niðing;
ill, mentally, physically,
and if that is the price i had to pay,
i came out in the black,
my madness heals me, my pain the only downside,
but i am loved still, and i harness it,
a tool to spread understanding,
another type of witchcraft.
ragr, yes, my practise done dressed effeminate,
my life lived in whichever clothes i choose,
shedding the boundaries, needless, constricting.
argr, too, cowardice if you can call it that,
i will not fight for wars that do not speak for me,
but i will stand tall and i will speak,
i will challenge your sense of normalcy,
and i will hold the hands of those afraid,
help them speak their truth.
if that does not meet your standards of bravery,
so be it.
(1/2) thinking about the art of reclaiming slurs; how many things have changed in 40ish generations, and how many things stayed the same.
i may have been called ergi then much as i am called contemporary slurs today.
#zines #minizines #8pagezine #zine #norseheathen #norsepagan #poetry