Her heart did not believe in the earth to still be there tomorrow.
So she ran too fast.
She missed her step, and broke her legs.
The aching heart never believed in the air to be enough for more than a night.
So she swallowed it all.
She sighed in too deeply, and coughed out her soul.
The witching heart knew that the sun was going to die.
So she stared at her love.
Forcing eyes open, until they went dry.
Her lover knew darkness, and had survived it
They needed to trust in the earth beneath their feat.
And in the sun to shine.
And in the air to breathe.
“You’re lack of faith is hurting me!”
And so they left to return on day the witch was not able to believe would ever come.
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 