„The horror of having a body is that of hoping for it to last long enough to fulfill the dream within the head“, I tell my witch over our midnight tea.
Let us cook the blood out of these sheets
and season it
with kisses and with tears.
In a world made of last times
let us ask for
just another time.
Because one day this body
will break
and there will be no skin
for you to touch
and no shoulder
and no chest
for you to rest your head upon
and breathe.
If not for this one moment to be felt
and for Dystopia love
to be fulfilled
then what was this body
even made for?
Just for
skin to burn
and blood to clot
and flesh to ache?
„In a world made of last times, let‘s ask for just another time“, my witch agreed with me and for a moment it soothed the sensation of falling apart, and I hoped that it would keep me together long enough to make it for just another moment.
Why I am not a nice girl
I am not your nice, Christian girl next door, as you might have noticed. And this is not a role I play for this blogging project, or to promote my writing and music. This is me, and I stick to it, even when it gets complicated, and believe me: It becomes an issue more often…
Intimate tale
I yearn for those moments,When I existedsolelyin your eyes.When I wasnothingBut an image causingCuriosity.I lived in those momentsWhen you knewNothingAbout the scarsBetween myThighs.Moments that werePure and softAnd kept mySecretWithout anyFalsity.In those momentsI felt loveFor all the thingsYou mustn’tKnow.All the thingsWent looseWithin myHeadAnd found their wayOnto myTongue.I still amThese momentsWhen I hadYouAnd you deniedThe thingsI wanted…
The tale of mental health in a burning world
“Wanna feel better?”, my witch asks me as she presents tonight’s options. Do we want to get drunk and risk a headache? Do we want to try out yoga again although we’ve never managed to take it seriously? Do we want to escape the last traces of reality by watching a sitcom and ignoring the…
Mistress witch writes 