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.
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…
