Surviving Dystopia
Surviving the bearing of a heart,
an oh! – so beating heart.
Surviving means
it is still beating,
and Dystopia means,
it bears dark things.
Waves of horror
and waves of agony
when second for second
and minute for minute
through eternity after always
the heart asks for things
this world no longer displays.
Until the skin
burned up in desire
once tickled and flooded
with warmth from the inside
will break open
and tell for itself
that there is no place left
for all that still is
burried alive on the inside.
Constantly asking the universe
where to go next
where to put
these thoughts, these feelings
these things left inside
that do not have
a right to be
anymore.
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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