Have her candles burned down?
Have her matches been used?
But she is still alive?
Has her chocolate been eaten?
Has the paper been wrapped around her fingers?
As sparkling rings?
Have her flowers died?
And the blossoms been collected, cherished and cared for?
She was locked up.
Are there bars before her window?
Painted in gold?
Yes?
Oh, she was locked up with love!
„And he is out, chasing the nightmare“, my witch giggled into her cup of tea as we return from our visit to a castle slightly younger than my witch, and my heart aches.
„Why are the good ones always out there ready to die?“
„Because otherwise, they would not be the good ones“, Layla reminds me.
She was right. And who did my heart think it was for protesting this and wanting someone back who was probably saving the world?
“This shit looks prettier when we suffering in castles”, my witch stated.
Cheers.
It’s prettier to suffer in a castle.
Unloved tale
OnceWhen someone had herShe was almost lovedBut then this someone thought:”I can’t be allShe’d ever known”And he let her go. And She ranShe ran too fastWhen she ranShe ran too far ThenShe was found againBy another strange manWho loved her recklesslyLove turned to painAnd carved his sinInto her skin And she fledShe fled too fastWhen…
Just a haunted girl scaring her friends – Writing update!
Intrigued. And quite as bit terrified.Those were the exact same words I got as feedback from my friends whom I’d recently handed the first pages of the witching novel to. Seems like I’ve accomplished my task, right? I’m the haunted girl scaring all her friends!No, but really. It felt as if I was understood through…
Tale about the softest secret
This tale is about a girl I once knew. This girl could not go anywhere without her lovely white shoes. Made of cotton, their rim did not reach her ankles, giving away how thin they were. Their soles were so slim, she felt the earth with every step. Those shoes she needed so dearly were…
Mistress witch writes 