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.
The latest Dystopia confusion – or what vaccines, glasses, and sunscreen suddenly have in common.
Confusion is one of the most important aspects of Dystopia. It’s this state of the world that keeps burning into the skin like a nervous flickering – and suddenly you’ve bought frog legs from the weirdo at the end of the road, while your neighbour was hanged for a miscarriage 20 years ago. Let’s name…
Keeping the connection – About taking the next step
I remember standing on the same field where I spent most of the past unnerving months. Listening to the same three accords throughout a song reminded me of time passing, of the feeling of spending time with people while doing something special together. Studying for an exam, rehearsing a song, going on a trip -…
Of memories and ashes
Once you were thereTwo minutes afterWith coffee and rainI will rememberThe way that we wereThe world has felt whole. Once we were thereIt was a ThursdayWith tea and a smileI will always rememberIt made me forgetThat the world has got holes. I want this to beThe one thingTo hold on toTo fill up the holesWe…
Mistress witch writes 