„I want to last long enough“, the witch whispers.
To climb up those stairs,
To sit by the window,
and inhale the sunset
wishing to witness a return!
… this body has to
be there
be whole!
This witching body has to function.
For just a bit longer.
For another night
and just another one.
To hurry down those stairs,
To run unto the field
and into the sunset embracing a long lost silhouette!
… this skin has to last.
But will it last?
„I want to last long enough“, the witch whispers in a wild moment at midnight, remembering how often this night has returned and fearing for how often it is still going to.
How to trust
this skin
this body
this lungs
and this heart?
How to dream of these days to come,
with skin so fragile and body and mind
marked by
Dystopia?
How to live through the days,
without dreaming of things to come,
always expecting existence
to fail?
Mistress witch writes 