When walking home
my arms full of
a box of donuts and a cup of ice cream,
I was so sad.
I was so sad
and I was wearing black
and even hiding half my face under a dark cloth,
and I cried.
I cried
and you never knew
how sad I was and it made me
cry even more.
It made me
cry even more
and I wished for you to have seen my
new purple hair.
You never saw my new purple hair,
but for a moment there,
I closed my eyes.
I closed my eyes
and imagined
that you would have and felt your eyes all over me.
And really felt
as if you were close the way you never were,
and I went on.
Went on to words
you never said
and felt them
recognizing me.
Recognizing
my tired eyes
and weakened arms
clinging on to my box and cup of sweets.
Recognizing
me needing you
and never being able to say so.
I felt you
finding your way to be close to this crying witch
all wrapped in black
and ready to get lost in sweet means of escape
and for a second there
all of me thought this witching dream were real.
I wish I’d told you all my stories.
I want to tell you all my storiesIt’s not that they would changeIt’s just that I would likeTo see themFormA new expressionOn your face I need to tell you all my storiesI am not sureIf they makeSenseThe way I thoughtThey do. I will tell you all my storiesThey frighten meI’m sure you won’t endureI see…
Dealing with darkness in writing
This spring afternoon is glowing pink and tastes like strong tea. It feels much too familiar, and I begin to open up.I feel far away from myself as I start to talk, to babble on about my novel. About all the things I’ve been reading about in the past 5 years. About the 17th century,…
Radical witching novel rewrites at 4 AM!
I wore the same night dress my witch used to wear to get drunk on my windowsill, when I suddenly had an idea at 4 AM. Great ideas always happen at 4 AM, remember? This one however, kept me awake for at least a week, debating it back and forth. At some point my witch…
Mistress witch writes 
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