„I want to live so much, it makes me want to die“, I tell my witch as we sit on a field covered in dust on the longest evening of the year.
I want
the rain to touch my soul
the lights to burn my thoughts
and dreams to escape into beyond.
I want
to live to taste your lips
like strawberries and cream at night
and a sparkle on our skin.
Sometimes
I want death to touch me
only gentle for a second
so that I will breathe in deeper.
I am a witch.
I close my eyes
and scream on the inside.
But at least I am still screaming.
„That‘s a thing about losing your hold in this world for a moment of Dystopia“, my witch responds. „It might feel so intense, you never want to find something to hold you back again.”
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 