„I‘m waiting for my vanilla scented candle to be replaced by you.“
By all of you.
Your sweat and blood.
Your skin turned red beneath my fingertips.
I want your shape to leave a trace on my existing.
I want to taste, to swallow and inhale your being.
Please stop hiding them and let me bite your lips.
Have my sweet spot.
It’s here for you.
I want to lick your leaking soul.
„It‘s so unfair when cute boys keep hiding behind their mask and die before you squeezed the hell out of them“, my witch giggled into another winter night.
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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