This witch once reached for a needle
to do nothing more
than patch some socks.
And there it had already happened:
she was a woman with a needle.
This witch now was a creature
that had always been there
always been right next to you,
but now seemed capable
to rip this world apart.
Has this witch ever done
anything else than
patching some socks and
cooking a meal
to keep her loved ones warm and alive?
Maybe,
once she had wished to patch another pair of socks.
Maybe,
once she had wished to cook another meal.
Maybe,
once she had wished to love someone long gone.
Maybe,
living for her had been deprived of things to keep the pain away,
and now and then she dreams of ripping this shell of her existence apart.
Maybe.
But no one knows,
and all they see
and fear,
and aim for,
is a women reaching for a needle.
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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