When being looked upon with eyes so sad, a witch once giggled: „Wanna peel off my skin to check what‘s beneath?“
To see what she might hide inside?
Does her blood run in purple,
instead of red?
Do her bones look just
like everybody else‘s?
„How can pretty eyes be so sad?“, the witch wonders as they pierce onto her softest spots.
This skin is me, it needs to feel.
It is my barrieer to the world.
It is my barrieer to you.
Let‘s peel it off.
Let‘s break whatever parts us.
Cross the distance.
Peel it off!
Have me leak.
You can drown in me.
My waves can bury you,
as they do the sunlight much too often.
That was hides inside is yours.
„I think he got scared“, the witch sighs as the tickling on her skin is gone.
Mistress witch writes 