„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.
Haunting Humor of a failed witch
An Iced Latte.A floral dress slipping over the shoulder.“I’m finally at that stage where people congratulate me for keeping my humor”. I tell my witch in horror.“That’s what happens when you survive beyond a certain point”, my witch knows to respond and steals the Iced drink from my hands. Humor has been haunting me.Humor broke…
Travelling to Edinburgh slow and green!
The feeling of being stuck was my main motivation to start this blog and summon my witch, so I love to write blog posts about all of the things that I am once again able to do! Ever since the pandemic does not have a grip around my life anymore, I can do things I…
Finding and keeping my voice
I grew up with depression, but it wasn’t mine. Honestly, I think the main reason why I started talking to my witch on this blog was that I never had people around that could give me a bearable perspective of life in this world, so I needed to rip dimensions apart. My mother never got…
Mistress witch writes 
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