Lately, all I am able to think during long and surreal nights are words my witch might have screamed on one of her many potential death beds, when blood was flooding her and still there were all these memories of moments that never were.
„I want to live
to taste your lips
and sometimes
I want death
to touch my soul
for me
to breathe in deeper.
I want to live
to feel this skin
soft in your hands
to hear this voice
sweet in your ears.
I want to live
to feel this sparkle
one more time
just one more time
it‘s always
one more time
for this hungering hope
outlives a body
and a soul
ripped apart.
„Will there really always be words like this to scream?“, I ask my witch. „Or can we die in peace after all?“
My witch giggles. „Some can, but I feel like we don‘t.“
The latest Dystopia confusion – or what vaccines, glasses, and sunscreen suddenly have in common.
Confusion is one of the most important aspects of Dystopia. It’s this state of the world that keeps burning into the skin like a nervous flickering – and suddenly you’ve bought frog legs from the weirdo at the end of the road, while your neighbour was hanged for a miscarriage 20 years ago. Let’s name…
Keeping the connection – About taking the next step
I remember standing on the same field where I spent most of the past unnerving months. Listening to the same three accords throughout a song reminded me of time passing, of the feeling of spending time with people while doing something special together. Studying for an exam, rehearsing a song, going on a trip -…
Of memories and ashes
Once you were thereTwo minutes afterWith coffee and rainI will rememberThe way that we wereThe world has felt whole. Once we were thereIt was a ThursdayWith tea and a smileI will always rememberIt made me forgetThat the world has got holes. I want this to beThe one thingTo hold on toTo fill up the holesWe…
Mistress witch writes 