Witches fall in love.
Witches fall in love with tragedies.
Witches fall in love, and someone had been really happy and uplifted enough to embrace the universe, to have it all end with blood shed.
Witches as such do not exist.
A witch was probably married as the nice person next door. Turning into the nice person to fall asleep next to. A witch has made love like the nice couple next door, and there something might have happened.
A demon might have taken its chance to finally move something around in this world so closed to it. A demon might have made her laugh while doing the dishes, and might have asked her for a cup of coffee or a cookie.
A demon might have asked her to move something around that night. That night that she made love to someone so nice. A demon might have asked the witch to welcome a seed. A seed to grow a little one inside of her.
A little human one inside of her. Made by two other human ones. Still, existent through a demonic desire.
A witch falls in love with tragedies.
A witch felt the desire to survive the blood shed and the tearing apart of her insides for that little human one.
A witch survived.
The little one did not.
Was it because the demanding question of a demon?
Or because the universe is mean?
Or because the witch did not burn for the nice and silent way of love making just enough?
The witch does not know.
The witch just knows that she has stopped functioning, and the blood shed will keep shedding inside of her.
The witch is still in love, but cannot make that kind of love ever again.
I wish I’d told you all my stories.
I want to tell you all my storiesIt’s not that they would changeIt’s just that I would likeTo see themFormA new expressionOn your face I need to tell you all my storiesI am not sureIf they makeSenseThe way I thoughtThey do. I will tell you all my storiesThey frighten meI’m sure you won’t endureI see…
Dealing with darkness in writing
This spring afternoon is glowing pink and tastes like strong tea. It feels much too familiar, and I begin to open up.I feel far away from myself as I start to talk, to babble on about my novel. About all the things I’ve been reading about in the past 5 years. About the 17th century,…
Radical witching novel rewrites at 4 AM!
I wore the same night dress my witch used to wear to get drunk on my windowsill, when I suddenly had an idea at 4 AM. Great ideas always happen at 4 AM, remember? This one however, kept me awake for at least a week, debating it back and forth. At some point my witch…
Mistress witch writes 
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