We never said goodbye, so you have to return.
I am thinking about all those goodbyes that were never said.
About eyes becoming fearful round.
About lips opening slightly, but no words coming out.
About tears getting ready but staying inside.
And I wonder whether these were promises for precious things to still be part of days that lay ahead.
I am thinking about all those goodbyes that were executed anyway.
About one last moment face to face, raising difficult questions.
About weeks and months to follow, restoring the thought of things to return.
About the feeling of a shadow at the horizon promising better days.
I am thinking that never saying goodbye never means that things were not lost.
But we never said goodbye, so you could still return.
“Sometimes, this is the only magic ever left”, my witch whispers into the flame of the vanilla scented candle.
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…
Mistress witch writes 