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.
My witching autumn desk
This was my longest quiet. My witch took a few weeks off. I have a lot of things to say, dark and urgent things! But my health made me pause everything. The first time in my life I’m saying that. I’ll be back in the next few days! Until then, enjoy the witching mood at…
Why do we stop doing things?
“When for health reasons we stop being ourselves, what is left then? ”, I complain to my witch just when the cold and dark season is ready to arrive. I am usually decorating a cake when the message I am dreading arrives. The pastry bag in hand, I read one cancellation after another. Of course,…
When we fall …
Who’ll be thereWhen we fall?Who will comeTo catch us all?Who’ll be thereIn the end? Late at nightI hear his voiceAnd I know thatHe waved her goodbyeThrough the noiseOf a world turning away. Laughter fromA window aboveBlurry lightsAnd I know thatShe gave upon loveRight there. And I wonderWho’ll be thereWhen we fall?Who will comeTo catch us…
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