Tag Archives: Poem

Tale about a witching crisis

Why is everything I want to be so far awayfrom what I turn into?Why does my body and my skin freezewhen I want to keep breathing?Why is everything so dark and coldwhenever I feel like burning?Why does my skin bleedwhere it misses to be touched?Why do I needIce cream and wineand Vanilla and candlesand aContinue reading “Tale about a witching crisis”

About wearing this skin

I wish I could wear my skin for youI don‘t know how to wear it on my own. I don‘t even have a skinbecause you never touched itI wish I had no lungs to breatheno voice to screamand I wish I had no heart to feelno head to dreamand store images, scents and melodiesof olderContinue reading “About wearing this skin”

Tale about your silence

This soul was leaking out to you …… but only the rest the world was listening. I am singingin your silencescreaming in theabsence of yoursand spiralinginto the holeyou left behind.There are soundshere are wordsand imagesborn becauseyou are gone. „Writing a novel and setting up a whole new world because we cannot talk to you anymore“,Continue reading “Tale about your silence”

How to jinx the universe

I want to jinx the universeFor me tohave you backhear your voice withstrawberries and creamwith wine and with a songon those lips of yours and mineat midnight. Can I jinx the universe?Put it allinto placethe ice cream andthe wine mixed withmy voice calling for yousummoning you back to metonight? Can I jinx the universe?Ask theContinue reading “How to jinx the universe”

Drown with me.

„I‘m not asking you to be with me“, I whisper into the sunset. „I‘m asking you to drown with me.“ Lay downand lay stillin the oceanof thoughts and dreamsthat won‘t belonginto this worldever again. Hold mehold onto mein this sea ofa you and methat could have beenthat should have beenbut never was. Witches fall inContinue reading “Drown with me.”

Words to scream at the end

Lately, all I am able to think during long and surreal nights are words my witch might have screamed on one of her many potential death beds, when blood was flooding her and still there were all these memories of moments that never were. „I want to liveto taste your lipsand sometimesI want deathto touchContinue reading “Words to scream at the end”

Tale about life and death

„I want to live so much, it makes me want to die“, I tell my witch as we sit on a field covered in dust on the longest evening of the year. I wantthe rain to touch my soulthe lights to burn my thoughtsand dreams to escape into beyond. I wantto live to taste yourContinue reading “Tale about life and death”

A question to the universe

„I’m not sure how I‘m gonna make it, just know that I‘m gonna“, I repeat the words of my witch and I know that I will be telling this myself every two minutes for the next few days. Those were the words of my witch, when she was wearing a white gown.Covered insweat and dirtandContinue reading “A question to the universe”

When this witch had you

Having youfelt like strawberries and creamon a rainy day in summerwaiting for a thunderstorm.It felt likebreathing in deeply for oncewith the patter of rainingpainting our world blue.Wrapped intosheets that are white and softholding us togetherwhile we‘re falling apart. „We could tell you that we love you“, my witch giggled. „But no. Look at our strawberriesContinue reading “When this witch had you”

Tale about another last time

I wrote you a letterand was so scaredit might not reach youin timethat I putall my stampson it.I had this feelingit might be last one.I ripped outtwo photographsthat had been sleepinginside an albumbecause I neededto see themand pass them onto you.I was walkingthrough rainand streets emptiedby this plagueto send the letteron its way.HopingIt was nottooContinue reading “Tale about another last time”

Tale about hidden things

„I never told him this“, my witch whispered. You touched a part of my soulthat had always been hidden.You found it all by yourselfand I wanted you to keep it.That part was woundedvery long agoand I never noticed the painuntil you showed methat this was no scarbut still bleedingand I am still leaking. „I neverContinue reading “Tale about hidden things”

Inside of a witch

There is an ocean inside of me.There is a depth that is risingand is cold but burning.There are words never saidand thoughts kept secret.There is pain beyond this worldand joy as bright as stars. There is an ocean inside of meand sometimes I am leaking. There is an ocean inside of me.Drown with me.Drown insideContinue reading “Inside of a witch”

Never happy ending

When you held meI stopped leakingfor a short momentthat was a sparkle. I saw you and you saw meand I was hurtby what the worldhad done to you. All of ourselvesand skins still markedby thoughts and shardssank into each other. I want to be thankfulfor this happy ending,but I don‘t want thisto ever end. „HappyContinue reading “Never happy ending”

Oh my shadow!

„With my shadow,oh my shadow“, my witch whispers. It‘s not enough,it was alwaystoo short and too earlyto break apartwith words and thoughtsstill unspoken. Just onceone more timehis eyes on meinstead of nightsempty and fullof ice creamand wine. In moments like thisthe world is leakingis woundedis sore.

See me with strawberries and cream

I wanted you to see mecurled up on my bedeating strawberries and creamwearing nothing but a shirttoo wide for meand I wanted you to pet my headand smile at meas gently and as warmas you would haveif you could haveever seen me this way. „At least I wore the dress I wanted to wear forContinue reading “See me with strawberries and cream”

Picking up the shards

I am picking up the shardsto put them back together.But to have those shardsthings have to break,and breaking isn’t fair.Surviving isn’t fairbut has to be donefor now. Even when brokenly bleedingand bleedingly brokenI am still herealthough some of the pieceshave lost what held themtogether onceand are looking fornew places to go. „Witches transform“, I amContinue reading “Picking up the shards”

My perfect witching dream

My perfect witching dreamis you waving at me from across the old hallof that very old train stationwhere we once metwhen Dystopia had noteaten up our souls yetand we would meet therewith other people all aroundtheir voices and their laughterand we would not carejust running onto each otherand showing each otherwhat wounded bits and partsContinue reading “My perfect witching dream”

The things we burn for

I am holding my breathbecause the air I could breatheis not filled with youalthough I want it to. I stayed awakeand ran through the nightto the end of the worldlooking for you. I am not laughingbut I am embracingthe whole worldfor a second. I am not sadbut I am mourningthe world for it existsat all.Continue reading “The things we burn for”

Tale about my shoulders

I bought a dress today.It is a pretty dress,except for the shoulders. What do women need them for?Those shoulders and those arms?To lift things up? My pretty new dresskeeps me from usingthose shoulders and those arms. Where is my prince?Once I‘ve heardthat pretty girls do get a prince for this. But I forgot,I do haveContinue reading “Tale about my shoulders”

Tale about breaking

Once these eyes are openand don‘t see youI have to understand this strange worldall over again. Once these eyes are moving aroundin their leaking holesthey search for blue, yellow and greenfinding nothing but red. Once I am awakeI am breaking apartlearning the truth once againwithout you. Because once I am restingmy soul resets meand IContinue reading “Tale about breaking”

Dystopia love

It‘s hard for you to get out of yourselfso I want to be under your skin. I want to hidethere in your shadowin your warmthbecause you know my painand I can guess those wordsthat are too hard for you to say. I want to be under your skinat least for once. I deny the spacethatContinue reading “Dystopia love”

I’m still saying these things

You‘re not here anymoreand I‘m still saying these things. I‘m still saying these thingsthat I did not ever want to say before,that I did not even joke about. You‘re goneand I‘m still saying these thingsthat I wanted to say to you. I‘m still saying these thingsalthough you can‘t hear me. But I‘m still saying theseContinue reading “I’m still saying these things”

Lick me when I’m leaking

I‘m leakingout of infectious witching eyeshaving dreams drop outhaving drowned in themwith favorite memories only ever imagined. I‘m leakingbecause his eyes once widened when I was shiveringwere so warmwere so widewere all I ever wanted to have seen me. I‘m leakingnot just after the one but all the thingsthat could have beenbut never wereand leaveContinue reading “Lick me when I’m leaking”

Flashing back

Good morning. How is your tea? Good. How is the cupcake? Delicious. I am having flashbacks to when Sophie and Kim left. Yes, me too. The snow is melting. It is getting warmer. The sky was pink in the morning. Beautiful. I am so homesick! Me too. The trees are still bare. Still almost dead.Continue reading “Flashing back”

Tale for all my ghosts

We‘re safe enough to suffocate.These walls are eating soulsby smothering the skinuntil what‘s inside is leaking out. We‘re already ghosts.You never saw my purple hair,and I don‘t even have a skinbecause you never touched it. When I am really happyI think of crying on your shoulder.And suddenly the pain is goodand I dream of beingContinue reading “Tale for all my ghosts”

“There is a way to cure hysteria, you know?”

„Something has been lost“, I say to m witch. „It has always been invisible, but was still there, and now it‘s gone.“ „And how do you know it‘s gone?“, Layla asks. „I feel it.“ Just stop feeling, stop feeling it. It is invisibleIt is in this mind in this head this chestIt makes the heartContinue reading ““There is a way to cure hysteria, you know?””

When I write about witches

Whenever I write about witchesthere are thoughtsin my headlooking for a placeand cutting cross my mind. When I write about witches,I am missing things.Early mornings,a cup of coffeeand something to do. When I write about witchesI am missing people.Steps I recognize,laughter I know,and most importantly: you. Whenever I write about witches,my inside has lostwhatever onceContinue reading “When I write about witches”

Your violet sparkle

Whenever I smile, it‘s the thought of you that makes this cheeks tickle and squeeze. It‘s the thought of youbringing with you a violet sparklelike an early sunrise in spring. But then I remember that all of you are gone and will never return. Violet has leftand so have green and blueand yellow is drowning.Continue reading “Your violet sparkle”