Dreams tainted in blood,
having become a shadow on an empty wall to stare at,
embracing the echo of a sparkle having died within a lost moment in time.
Just let it drown.
Hidden deep inside,
the part with all the warmth and the oh!-so beating heart,
that urges to wake up and fight for things so close to the soul leaking out into a world gone cold.
Let it drown.
Some things have to be silenced,
and disappear into the sea of gray that once had been full of a purple sparkle,
and break itself into
a thousand unheard frequencies.
For otherwise
this body will break and the skin will rip apart and tell
that nothing is ever left,
of all the tales that could have been,
of all the things that never were,
I need another witching dream.
Why I am not a nice girl
I am not your nice, Christian girl next door, as you might have noticed. And this is not a role I play for this blogging project, or to promote my writing and music. This is me, and I stick to it, even when it gets complicated, and believe me: It becomes an issue more often…
Intimate tale
I yearn for those moments,When I existedsolelyin your eyes.When I wasnothingBut an image causingCuriosity.I lived in those momentsWhen you knewNothingAbout the scarsBetween myThighs.Moments that werePure and softAnd kept mySecretWithout anyFalsity.In those momentsI felt loveFor all the thingsYou mustn’tKnow.All the thingsWent looseWithin myHeadAnd found their wayOnto myTongue.I still amThese momentsWhen I hadYouAnd you deniedThe thingsI wanted…
The tale of mental health in a burning world
“Wanna feel better?”, my witch asks me as she presents tonight’s options. Do we want to get drunk and risk a headache? Do we want to try out yoga again although we’ve never managed to take it seriously? Do we want to escape the last traces of reality by watching a sitcom and ignoring the…
Mistress witch writes 
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