What makes a person, Layla?
Is it two arms and legs,
and eyes to see,
and a voice to speak with,
and blood to spill?
Maybe, he saw me as a person.
He did not see
that all I ever did was vibrating
on that very last frequency
that was left by better days.
He saw me as one,
but I think I‘m not a person anymore.
He saw me as a person,
when he touched those
arms and hands
and lips and breasts
and never realized that there was blood to spill.
Maybe,
I have been breaking myself into 100 unheard frequencies
and through those veins
in arms and legs
and lips and breasts
runs blood burned up
by just another witching dream.
There was another one
that saw the flames
and felt them
running in this blood
and touched those
arms and hands
and lips and breasts
and knew.
„Maybe, I‘m a witch“, I say.
Layla nods. „I wanted a world in which I could have been his witch“, she says, as she attempts to cook a violet cloud.
A witch with no regrets
This night feels cozy.Midnight has passed.No sleep, but another cup of tea in vanilla scented candlelight.“Are you saying you have no regrets?”, my witch giggles. When I was younger, I was often warned that I would regret the things that I did. I remember being 10 years old and finally telling my family that I…
Heavy rain and zombie fire – A small town of resilience part 2
This is a hopeful post, although it might not look like it at first. Recently, the region I am living in is experiencing a historical wildfire, and it was getting terrifyingly close to the city that gave me a lot of inspiration to write my witching novel. The town is called Monschau, and who is…
What the stars can do to us
“Are you really lucky enough to miss out on a few shooting stars?”, my witch asks as I try to fall asleep. Well, who of us ever is? We had seen 6 very bright shooting stars, but I was getting cold and tired. Can I afford to sleep during the peak of the perseids? I…
Mistress witch writes 
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