Narrow winding roads lead up and down the steep hillsides that are ever threatening to be washed away. The hollers that they lead to are well kept secrets, and to stray arbitrarily upon them is to be met with wary eyes full of distrust and confrontation. Trailers and dilapidated houses dot the landscape under grey skies and ominous woods. These homes are nestled alongside the many creeks in a land decimated by the ravaging of the coal mines, gas lines, and all the baggage created when desperate communities resort to unsavory ways of coping and getting by.
These are my roads to home.
Hailing from the heart of Appalachia I want to say that these stereotypes aren’t accurate, but for me they are what made me. Being suspicious of the outside world, remaining under the radar, and keeping our family business quiet is deeply ingrained within me. To speak of the granny magick that’s been passed down is to quite literally betray my kin.
To remain silent is to betray myself.
To not speak is to deny any shadow work from being done, is to allow my generational traumas to fester and protect the ones who inflicted them. It would mean to continue to operate from a suspicious, hidden place both isolated and forgotten.
But I am firewater.
If you dare, drink from that mason jar which holds the secrets of these hills.
Let me drench your lips and saturate your tongue with the ways of a people you thought were long past.
If you can bear to swallow I will set your belly ablaze right before making all truths be known.
Like white lightning I was perfected under the cover of darkness but I will not be underestimated once you’ve truly tasted me.
Tell me Outsider, do you dare let me steep in your bones?
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Narrow winding roads lead up and down the steep hillsides that are ever threatening to be washed away. The hollers that they lead to are well kept secrets, and to stray arbitrarily upon them is to be met with wary eyes full of distrust and confrontation. Trailers and dilapidated houses dot the landscape under grey […]
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Narrow winding roads lead up and down the steep hillsides that are ever threatening to be washed away. The hollers that they lead to are well kept secrets, and to stray arbitrarily upon them is to be met with wary eyes full of distrust and confrontation. Trailers and dilapidated houses dot the landscape under grey […]
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