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.
I wish I’d told you all my stories.
I want to tell you all my storiesIt’s not that they would changeIt’s just that I would likeTo see themFormA new expressionOn your face I need to tell you all my storiesI am not sureIf they makeSenseThe way I thoughtThey do. I will tell you all my storiesThey frighten meI’m sure you won’t endureI see…
Dealing with darkness in writing
This spring afternoon is glowing pink and tastes like strong tea. It feels much too familiar, and I begin to open up.I feel far away from myself as I start to talk, to babble on about my novel. About all the things I’ve been reading about in the past 5 years. About the 17th century,…
Radical witching novel rewrites at 4 AM!
I wore the same night dress my witch used to wear to get drunk on my windowsill, when I suddenly had an idea at 4 AM. Great ideas always happen at 4 AM, remember? This one however, kept me awake for at least a week, debating it back and forth. At some point my witch…
Mistress witch writes 