„I’m not sure how I‘m gonna make it, just know that I‘m gonna“, I repeat the words of my witch and I know that I will be telling this myself every two minutes for the next few days.
Those were the words of my witch, when she was wearing a white gown.
Covered in
sweat and dirt
and blood and tears
and his steps
in the hall,
and his words
in her heart
and his hands
on her skin
and her guilt
covering
the darkness
of this
world.
They became my words, when I was sitting next to the blue painting
on the white wall
and there was
a question
to the universe
which no one
ever answers
and his words
were opening up
a scar
which had healed
in silence
but had kept
bleeding.
„Maybe one day, you will not just manically whisper this to yourself, but actually believe me“, my witch giggles into a melancholy summer night.
“Maybe one day”, I agree and stare onto the sky that went from blue to violet in a smooth shade.
“But until then, everyday will be full of questions I want to have answered but never be forced to ask.”
I wish I’d told you all my stories.
I want to tell you all my storiesIt’s not that they would changeIt’s just that I would likeTo see themFormA new expressionOn your face I need to tell you all my storiesI am not sureIf they makeSenseThe way I thoughtThey do. I will tell you all my storiesThey frighten meI’m sure you won’t endureI see…
Dealing with darkness in writing
This spring afternoon is glowing pink and tastes like strong tea. It feels much too familiar, and I begin to open up.I feel far away from myself as I start to talk, to babble on about my novel. About all the things I’ve been reading about in the past 5 years. About the 17th century,…
Radical witching novel rewrites at 4 AM!
I wore the same night dress my witch used to wear to get drunk on my windowsill, when I suddenly had an idea at 4 AM. Great ideas always happen at 4 AM, remember? This one however, kept me awake for at least a week, debating it back and forth. At some point my witch…
Mistress witch writes 