I bleed like Vanilla.
Why is he not here to lick my leaking soul?
My leaking soul that loses sweet daydreams everywhere it goes as small drops of joy turning into a sea to drown in.
Why aren‘t his eyes, his lips, his hands closer to the hole that opened up, that his presence opened up. Leaking out so sweet for eyes, and hands, and a presence too sweet to ever hurt enough to stop it from surviving the horrors he inflicted.
Your witch is bleeding vanilla.
Opening up her leaking soul.
Having her dreams drop out.
Drink from me, or one of us is going to drown.
A witch with no regrets
This night feels cozy.Midnight has passed.No sleep, but another cup of tea in vanilla scented candlelight.“Are you saying you have no regrets?”, my witch giggles. When I was younger, I was often warned that I would regret the things that I did. I remember being 10 years old and finally telling my family that I…
Heavy rain and zombie fire – A small town of resilience part 2
This is a hopeful post, although it might not look like it at first. Recently, the region I am living in is experiencing a historical wildfire, and it was getting terrifyingly close to the city that gave me a lot of inspiration to write my witching novel. The town is called Monschau, and who is…
What the stars can do to us
“Are you really lucky enough to miss out on a few shooting stars?”, my witch asks as I try to fall asleep. Well, who of us ever is? We had seen 6 very bright shooting stars, but I was getting cold and tired. Can I afford to sleep during the peak of the perseids? I…
Mistress witch writes 
One thought on “A leaking soul”