Dorothy just wanted something that she could believe in,
A gray dustbowl girl in a life she was better off leavin'.
She made her escape, went from gray into green,
And she could have got clear, and she could have got clean,
But she chose to be good and go back to the gray Kansas sky
Where color's a fable and freedom's a fairy tale lie.
Is it really a choice?
When in one world she has old women who want to kill her dog, uncles who expect her to be her aunt before she knows how to be herself and an aunt who would like to give her a little more time but isn’t doing so well any more. In the second world she has houses that kill witches, shoes that sparkle, color all around her, scarecrows and tin men and lions and wizards who ask girls to kill.
Kill the witch.
Kill the woman with the green skin.
Kill the woman who lost her sister and wanted something to remember her by.
Kill the witch.
Auntie Em was getting sick and Uncle Henry couldn’t take care of the farm and the house. Dorothy was twelve and the woman down the street scared her and wanted to hurt her dog. Uncle Henry would let her and Auntie Em has a thousand chores with no end in site and needed help not more problems.
A tornado came to Oz and took Dorothy from a dull grey world and threw her into technicolor madness. Where Lions talked and were afraid, men were made of tin with no heart and scarecrows dreamed of more than the fields they guarded.
It’s not a sin to want more.
It’s not a sin to want the chance to become a person before becoming her aunt.
It’s not a sin to want more than a patch of dirt to guard.
It’s not a sin to hope for love.
It’s not a sin to want to not be afraid.
But what will they do to get this?
A pretty woman with a wand and a sparkling dress told a child to follow a rode while she floated on a bubble. She gave her a dead woman’s shoes and sang her a song and said good luck.
We’re off to see the wizard.
A girl can face a floating head trying to return to the home she was better off leaving. She couldn’t be her own person when she was being raised to be someone else. The mantle of responsibility can cripple shoulders too young to bear it. But sometimes it’s better to dance with the devil who’s face you know that a face behind a curtain.
A diploma, an old medal, and a pocket watch and shoes that can possibly click together to bring her back to a black and white washed out world. That’s the price of a green skinned witch.
She could have stayed in Oz. She could have stayed in the colorful world where people hailed her as a hero.
Murder is a heroic act when everyone hates the deceased.
What good is a world where a Wizard is just another old man making everyone believe he is bigger than he really is? What good is a world where a good witch can help you but chooses to send you to an imposter instead? What good is a world where young girls are pawns but told they are heros?
What good is a world of shining emerald when everything is rotten inside.
Ding Dong the Witch is Dead.
Is there ever freedom when there is no choice?
Stay in a world where the king is a man who believed his own fairy tale or return to a world where washing pots, mending laundry and cooking endless meals is your only fate.
Slapping color over lies may make them easier to swallow but they taste just as bitter coming back up.
Be a good girl and help your aunt.
Be a good girl and kill the witch.
People have the right to choose their own hell. There is the hell that lies to you, puts color over it’s darkness and calls it progress. There are also honest hells, this is your lot- be good and live with it. There are hells that show you all the hells you could be damned to and shoves those stories into your brain before sending you to the hell you left.
A twelve year old girl traveled by tornado, killed a witch with her house and another with a bucket of water. She clicked her heels together and went back to a world that was too small for her adventure. A twelve year old girl killed two witches and her family could only laugh at her.
Come to Oz, expose the Wizard, kill the Witch and go home. Good luck.
Freedom is a lie when she never had a choice in the first place.