Life before witching took place …
… when breathing into a chest
covered in fabric
and held back by ribbons
to never let go.
… when a tongue was tasting
what teeth were chewing
for a pit
fearing to be full.
… when eyes saw
whatever was expected
only to ignore the shadow
rushing in the corner.
But what if …
… someone takes off the fabric
and loosens the ribbons
for the chest to inhale
their taste on that tongue
and lips to be bitten
with a look into eyes
to set a world on fire?
„Oh boy“, my witch giggled. „Who but who the hell would cut us loose like this?“
„Who the hell is allowed to choke us like this?“
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 