I summoned my witch with wine and chocolate, but when I was roaming the store once more, I found a green sparkling wine that looked really interesting. I also bought frozen strawberries, because they were part of my favorite cupcake recipe. For that recipe, I did need other things, too, and so I bought eggs,Continue reading “An attempt to postpone starvation”
Category Archives: The historical horror of being alive
Tale about a witching house
Every witch once had a home.A house providing a roof to protect them from the rain and storm outside.It is a tragedy that witching houses do have windows for eager eyes to stare through. Every witch once had a home,to come back to from however far they escaped into the forest.A home with lights toContinue reading “Tale about a witching house”
A lucky knot in this weird universe
I am going to collect everything that is not broken yet, and put all the lucky knots of this weird universe in one place, for once. „Are you already done with everything that‘s broken?“, Layla is mocking me. No, I am not. How could I. Things that break lay scattered into thousands of shards andContinue reading “A lucky knot in this weird universe”
Tale about staring at the wall
There‘s a dot on the left side, that‘s a bit bigger than the other dots around.Its borders are rounder.It plays with the light and the shadows at the heads of the smaller ones.This one is called out-of-breath. There is a really small one on the opposite side.This one is mostly ignored by light and shadow,andContinue reading “Tale about staring at the wall”
Demons for dating
Witches fall in love with tragedies, and being loved by a witch has an awful lot to do with empty bottles and things happening only in thoughts and dreams.But witches are supposed to have options, right? These beings that bend the borders of reality have to have some options out of this world and forContinue reading “Demons for dating”
Isolation call
Today, I called different people, because I really just needed to call someone and hear another person‘s voice and feel a little less alone. I called my grandmother, because her birthday was last sunday and she did not pick up the phone by then (can old people please stop doing this while a virus isContinue reading “Isolation call”
lovers and needles
I want to make you hide inside my cupboardYou know, just things that lovers do. I want to make youbreathe in deepermake you shiverthink about leavingbut never do so. I want to make you melt,and leave a stain,a scent all over me,just things that lovers do. But all I ever dois things that women withContinue reading “lovers and needles”
Why I write about witches
I have already written about how I summoned Layla, the witch living in my kitchen during the pandemic, with chocolate and wine, and sometimes with ice cream, and how we had the dark kind of fun, and were missing our boys, always good for a tale about surviving Dystopia. But I think, this might beContinue reading “Why I write about witches”
Being loved by a witch
Being loved by a witchand you‘ll never have to search the shadowsthe demons have already been given a cookie. Being loved by a witchbut don‘t be scared.A soul is crying out to you. Being loved by a witchmeans I‘ll drink this bottle of wine and have sex with youalthough you‘re gone so long. Being lovedContinue reading “Being loved by a witch”
Tale about ice cream and wine
There is a path that I need to take, from time to time.Maybe, because once I have been walking on it through the most passionate rain in early spring.Or maybe, because I needed to walk down that particular path to buy ice cream and wine for one of the best nights of my life.Or, becauseContinue reading “Tale about ice cream and wine”
Tale of the witching transformation
Do witches really bend the borders of the world?Trick the being of this universe?Change its essence and its colors? Can witches even threaten the world?Alter all its structure into one that does notendure our existence anymore? No, they don‘t.And yes, they do. Witchesclose their eyes and allow their thoughts to travel far.Through time and everythingContinue reading “Tale of the witching transformation”
Being alive is a horror, sometimes.
A hot chocolate for me.Tea for my witch.„Being alive is a really bad idea.“ We are sitting on cushions between boxes and furniture to be put into place, while only the bright light on the ceiling is available.„But people keep doing so“, my witch answers.„Because sometimes it feels really good.“I don‘t have to mention thatContinue reading “Being alive is a horror, sometimes.”
The witch and the needle
This witch once reached for a needleto do nothing morethan patch some socks.And there it had already happened:she was a woman with a needle. This witch now was a creaturethat had always been therealways been right next to you,but now seemed capableto rip this world apart. Has this witch ever doneanything else thanpatching some socksContinue reading “The witch and the needle”
Dystopia goes on
I am sitting on the couch and I can‘t move. My feet are wet and dry socks are just two steps away from me. But I don‘t want to move, because once I‘ve moved, I would also have to bring the laundry into the basement and put it up to dry, and also get theContinue reading “Dystopia goes on”
Ice cream and daydreams
When walking homemy arms full ofa box of donuts and a cup of ice cream,I was so sad. I was so sadand I was wearing blackand even hiding half my face under a dark cloth,and I cried. I criedand you never knewhow sad I was and it made mecry even more. It made mecry evenContinue reading “Ice cream and daydreams”
These empty months
Nights grew longer, and lights began to shine and twinkle and burn as they only ever did when autumn arrived. My witch and I were thinking about how all these empty months had been, and how even they had been filled with things, just not the things that had been expected. Not with certain wordsContinue reading “These empty months”
Dreaming of kissing strangers
Missing those times, when there were just strangers. Discovering those eyes of his,and how they conquer the world,and are wounds ripped into this face,giving a clear view into shadows. Missing those times, when coffee and cake made up another witching dream. When skin on skin was thoughtand a beating heartgave away a violet sparkle. MissingContinue reading “Dreaming of kissing strangers”
“At least let me be dead inside.”
„I don‘t care. I‘m dead inside, remember?“ A decision had been made. The leaves were orange and red as they flew by my window, while raindrops painted into the view. Before me on the table lay two wooden needles and wool in shades of copper. For the perfect autumn feeling, I would need a hotContinue reading ““At least let me be dead inside.””
I need another witching dream!
There is a new day to begin,There is a stranger to become familiar.But there is no voice to be found down this throat.There is a space which had once been filled with something, and now seems to be shrinking. Maybe it was lost,flew out while screaming too loud,and is now wandering the night as anContinue reading “I need another witching dream!”
Why witches are not afraid of the dark
Witches are not afraid of the dark, because there is nothing left waiting for them in there. There is nothing left hiding in the dark that they have not met yet, and they know it. The nightmares have already come true, when with a black clot and painful twist in the universe something or someoneContinue reading “Why witches are not afraid of the dark”
“If I let you hurt me, I’ll be one of your pretty girls.”
Today, I‘m going to be brave. Just as brave as my witch. I have found my nice man with a needle, and I will be strong.„If I let you hurt me, I‘ll be one of your pretty girls,, right?“, I sing to myself, while taking off the black dress with the purple ribbons. Way tooContinue reading ““If I let you hurt me, I’ll be one of your pretty girls.””
If it were
I wish it were deadly enough to give me one last kiss after which I could honeslty say goodbye and leave in peace. Not completely in peace.But still with a sweet,and sparkling,and ticklingof lifethat makes it possible to to greet deathwith lips just kissedand skin just touchedand needs just satisfied. I wish it were deadlyContinue reading “If it were”
Life is unfair. Death even more.
Layla wanted chocolate.After having her around for months, this did not really surprise me, anymore.But this one night, she did not only want chocolate, and also not only wine. She was reaching for the marshmallows and put one on a pencil to melt it over a vanilla scented candle when she asked. „Can I borrowContinue reading “Life is unfair. Death even more.”
You wanted to know how the Basilisk kills, boy.
You wanted to know how the Basilisk kills, boy.You wanted to breath the same air as the most vivid witching dream that bound the dream of having you to this broken chest. You wanted to feel the poisonous dream climbing out of this mind spiraling around sensing you, infecting the air with the deepest desireContinue reading “You wanted to know how the Basilisk kills, boy.”
Tomorrow never came
Eyes ripped into this facegiving away darkness.Something‘s hiding deep inside,not wanting to be seen,but still waiting for eyes, for thoughts to be gentle. You let me look into it,You let me explore them,and I wanted to reach out to them,and put my hands, my lips, my words onto whereveryour soul was leaking out. Why rushContinue reading “Tomorrow never came”
Witching poem
Violet and sugar Vanilla and death Witches are always guilty in dreams. Of all the tales that could have been Of all the things that never were I need another witching dream.
Dystopia lives
Surviving DystopiaSurviving the bearing of a heart,an oh! – so beating heart.Surviving meansit is still beating,and Dystopia means,it bears dark things. Waves of horrorand waves of agonywhen second for secondand minute for minutethrough eternity after alwaysthe heart asks for thingsthis world no longer displays. Until the skinburned up in desireonce tickled and floodedwith warmth fromContinue reading “Dystopia lives”
What makes a witch, Layla?
Darkness at 4 AM in late September. I was laying still and trying to sleep, while my witch was still awake, listening to the screaming of the storm outside our window. „Layla?“, I asked. „What makes a witch?“She did not answer, but I knew that she had heard me.„I mean“, I tried to explain myself,Continue reading “What makes a witch, Layla?”
Of all the tales that could have been
Dreams tainted in blood,having become a shadow on an empty wall to stare at,embracing the echo of a sparkle having died within a lost moment in time.Just let it drown. Hidden deep inside,the part with all the warmth and the oh!-so beating heart,that urges to wake up and fight for things so close to theContinue reading “Of all the tales that could have been”
How witches are
Witches are and are not. Witches can be seen by eager eyes, and enter the world once Dystopia has struck. Witches are because in this world there is loss and there is pain, and loss and pain cannot exist alone. Alone, they make no sense, and how to bear great suffering with no sense toContinue reading “How witches are”
Mistress witch writes 