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.
The latest Dystopia confusion – or what vaccines, glasses, and sunscreen suddenly have in common.
Confusion is one of the most important aspects of Dystopia. It’s this state of the world that keeps burning into the skin like a nervous flickering – and suddenly you’ve bought frog legs from the weirdo at the end of the road, while your neighbour was hanged for a miscarriage 20 years ago. Let’s name…
Keeping the connection – About taking the next step
I remember standing on the same field where I spent most of the past unnerving months. Listening to the same three accords throughout a song reminded me of time passing, of the feeling of spending time with people while doing something special together. Studying for an exam, rehearsing a song, going on a trip -…
Of memories and ashes
Once you were thereTwo minutes afterWith coffee and rainI will rememberThe way that we wereThe world has felt whole. Once we were thereIt was a ThursdayWith tea and a smileI will always rememberIt made me forgetThat the world has got holes. I want this to beThe one thingTo hold on toTo fill up the holesWe…
Mistress witch writes 