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.“
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…
