There is a new day to begin,
There is a stranger to become familiar.
But there is no voice to be found down this throat.
There is a space which had once been filled with something, and now seems to be shrinking.
Maybe it was lost,
flew out while screaming too loud,
and is now wandering the night as an echo of shadows.
If unheard for too long, some things become silenced, and turn into dreams haunting those still waiting to fade away.
This is what witching dreams are for.
For picturing those things
for finding words and giving space
to what was suffered.
For providing a voice
and tickling the skin
and causing the right chemicals through all of the body
to make certain things be felt once more.
Just for a moment,
as if nobody had ever been lost,
although it was.
A second,
as if horror were not true,
although it will always be,
once you open your eyes.
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 