Daddy said it‘s fine,
so we‘ll cut off this kin.
It‘s not gonna hurt, right?
It‘s never gonna hurt.
Daddy says it‘s fine,
so we‘ll let them tear our hearts out.
Because they don‘t count, right?
Hearts don‘t count.
„But he said, it‘s fine“, my witch giggled as a response to me throwing my cup of tea at the wall, while putting on her sweet sunday dress
„I still wish to live in a world where our hearts would count“, I admit and realize that her dress would be nice to be buried in.
„Oh, but he‘s so proud of you because you don‘t“, my witch responds.
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 