We are drowning again.
Maybe, this is just what witches do.
It‘s 9 AM and I have to get up, while my witch is asleep, curled up in a short night dress on my arm chair by the window. Lucky witch.
And suddenly, it‘s far into the afternoon, and I wonder how time can fly by so fast while all I tried so far was to get a coffee and maybe even eat something.
I also wonder, how it is already getting dark.
It is already getting dark, and I have not anything at all, and as I answer a phone call and tell someone for two very long minutes that existing has become pointless, I hear a little confusion in the voice on the other end, maybe even a bit of fear, and there I know that I have said too much again, and I swallow those thoughts, to make the pressure behind my eyes rise again.
Now, it is raining, and I light up the vanilla scented candles on my desk.
As Layla wakes up, she asks: „What have I missed?“
And I have nothing to tell my witch, because her company in candle light and tearing time apart are the only things in life that make sense anymore.
Layla‘s eyes begin to search my room, until she found the half empty bottle holding the books on my bookshelf back. „At least no rum for breakfast“, she said.
And I nod.
That‘s it for today.
At least no rum for breakfast.
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…