„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.”
My witching autumn desk
This was my longest quiet. My witch took a few weeks off. I have a lot of things to say, dark and urgent things! But my health made me pause everything. The first time in my life I’m saying that. I’ll be back in the next few days! Until then, enjoy the witching mood at…
Why do we stop doing things?
“When for health reasons we stop being ourselves, what is left then? ”, I complain to my witch just when the cold and dark season is ready to arrive. I am usually decorating a cake when the message I am dreading arrives. The pastry bag in hand, I read one cancellation after another. Of course,…
When we fall …
Who’ll be thereWhen we fall?Who will comeTo catch us all?Who’ll be thereIn the end? Late at nightI hear his voiceAnd I know thatHe waved her goodbyeThrough the noiseOf a world turning away. Laughter fromA window aboveBlurry lightsAnd I know thatShe gave upon loveRight there. And I wonderWho’ll be thereWhen we fall?Who will comeTo catch us…
