„I have missed this“, my witch sighs obscenely into the lime-raspberry-cheesecake we put into the fridge at 3 AM.
It won‘t be ready before 6.
So why sleep at all?
Why sleep at all?
It‘s just another night.
Another night to get through.
Another night to make it through.
Through hours lost in the dark.
Through hours unseen,
to have a bit of wine
and dip into it
a cherry lollipop
the kind you last had when you were 12.
To cook and beat and pour
a sweet and creamy treat
and lose the grip
on the bottle of wine
above the pot.
Let‘s keep on dipping,
keep on pouring,
cooking, beating!
Have the sweetest treat
for the head that spins around,
is hearing thoughts
that never would survive the day of light
but whisper, sing and scream
in the dark.
It‘s just another night to make it through.
„Oh, I needed this“, Layla sighs again, sitting on the kitchen counter in her night dress, waiting for the new cheese cake to enjoy in lucky corpse day.
Where would I be without her?
Mistress witch writes 