A witch once climbed on top of the city wall.
Which was meant to keep her safe
and hidden from the world.
And what happened to the witch to make this tale worth telling?
Did she stumble?
Did she fall?
Land down on the pavement?
Scratch her knee?
Or break her ankle?
Has she been seen?
Caught by jealous eyes?
Found bleeding on the floor?
Not helped but left in pain?
Laughed at?
Cursed for her attempt?
„It‘s nothing like that“, the witch giggles.
The witch took a climb up.
The witch stood safe.
She did not fall.
She was not seen.
But she caught a glimpse.
On what lays ahead.
Of places to be.
Of shadows to chase.
Her infectious eyes and leaking soul learned secrets to take back home and keep.
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 