BEHIND THOSE SHADOWS

They look at you
and your clothes tell a story
of last night.
White shirt
with
strangers hair all over it –
it’s like the last straw
to their tolerance.

To your innocence,
that you lost
at the same time
you lost your mind.

(And clothes).

Thin stitchings of dignity
got ripped
as you were sitting on the lap of a stranger.

See-through tops
and
see-through minds
mesh together into a thinning net,
that sets such a strong foundation
for new victims to be caught
and savoured by your lips.

Your shoulders move
in the direction of their gazing eyes,
and you can tell,
that slowly
you are twisting
every
single
one of them
around your fingers
and your toes.

Count them.
Give them names.
You’re famous after all.

– Chatty Owl –

DESTRUCTIVE

Today I was catching up with my reader after being away for a while, and I came across this post by my dear friend Paul and it triggered me to write about this.
Sad as it is…

Your destructive beauty
conquers every muscle in my body.
This masterpiece of what you are
reminds me of a fragile flower –
the subtle curves
and ever-changing colours…
Just like a swarm of stinging jellyfish,
that hypnotise my soul,
I’m forced
to aimlessly devote my mind
to a fruitless hope.
You’re fatal.
Like a stunning woman.
All evil things are blessed
with being pretty.

– Chatty Owl –

OUT OF STEP

I’m two steps ahead of you,
and I already can’t remember
what it feels like
to be there,
where you are now.
You point towards the ground
and ask me
to walk a mile in your shoes,
but my dear, I say,
I have my own shoes to worry about,
as I speed up,
leaving you and your shoelaces.

– Chatty Owl –

A-Z

Hi you all. I’m still on my little break, so please be patient with me while I’m taking my time to catch up with all your lovely posts that I actually miss reading.
Soon!

Abandoned
bodies of the past
cripple
days of my
enjoyment. They
fiddle with my memories,
gathering all of them in one
house of disappointment.
Irrational decisions,
juvenile actions, like a flight of a
kite –
lingering above, but not worth
mentioning, yet
not easy to be forgotten.
Obscene images
pirouette in front of my eyes,
queueing up in
rows and rows, forming
silent movies,
that
undress my soul bare.
Vendettas and revenges
whip their angry fangs at me,
XII hours of regret, while you
yell “help” in the
zenith of our broken life.

– Chatty Owl –

THE MOMENT

I watch the rain
kissing the other side of my window
and wonder,
if that’s how you feel,
when I touch you,
having another man
on my mind.
You know,
as if my hugs
were wrapped in a plastic sheet
and all you can feel is
the artificial warmth.
Is that what it is for you?

My dry lips
are screaming for water
as I watch those droplets
going south,
teasing me with their wet presence,
and that’s the moment,
when I realise
that
I shouldn’t stay with you,
on the wrong side of the rain.

– Chatty Owl –

INNER GEOMETRIES

My dear all, I wanted to thank everybody for being such a huge support lately. Your comments and feedback mean a lot to me. I need to fly away for a while, so I’ll be missing your new writings and posts, but I’ll try to catch up with all of you whenever I get a chance. Also, I scheduled few posts for this week (thanks WP for this option), so stay tuned until I’m back!
Stay awesome, dears.
I will miss you.

I drop my eyes
to the level of your desperation.
I cannot smile
or you'll know it's not sincere.
Unlike others,
you can always tell the difference.
You ask me
why I'm so quiet
and
I point at the sky.
Thoughts of you and I
are floating about there,
forming offsprings of new ideas,
but then bouncing off each other,
creating new paths for themselves.
Circles distort,
love triangles become pentagons,
mysteries get cornered
inside these square boxes
and
like a venus fly trap,
I close my eyes,
fold my arms,
and evaporate
into a feathery river
of nothingness.

- Chatty Owl -

REPETITIVELY SHORT

Pale fingers running
up and down my legs.

Soaking up
my tanned skin.

Your lips on mine.
I want them to be lost

in a maze of kisses.
For eternity.

Infinity.
A horizontal figure of eight.

Like me.
On that table.
On my back.

Inappropriate thoughts
is the most natural thing

right now.
With you.

High heels during the day.
Barefoot at night.
In love by morning.

– Chatty Owl –

ILLER

Vertical shadows stand behind me
like cyclopean statues,
as reminders,
that we are always watched
by the eye.
Eerie rendezvous of the night
become
an obsessive addiction
of the mundane daylight
and we sigh over dreams,
that we wasted away
so
carelessly.
You and me
are becoming
“iller”.

– Chatty Owl –

INFORMAL FALLACY

Clouds lick my skin
with their wet tongues
of raindrops,
and I watch pages of my book
transform into sinking boats
of black-on-white paper.

They say the air is the freshest
after the storm,
but I don’t need a reason
to be calm,
unless I’m around you –
a gambler of life.
Like a cowboy,
who walks on dust
without leaving footprints.

I have such an urge
to spring-clean my mind,
to get rid of all the cobwebs,
forgetting about

The spilled milk.
The soiled soul.
And the reason,
why I still write
with the scent of you
on my skin.

I lick raindrops
off my bottom lip,
as if you were wiping your kisses off
and only then I realise –
it’s
still
raining
and
I’m
wet.

– Chatty Owl –

NO TITLE

You want to slam the door
and let the locals hear the noise
of your vocal cords,
but you know that
once you’re on the other side
of that door,
you won’t get invited back.

You act all surprised
and say things like
“But we never argued”,
“Yet we are now”,
I reply
and it’s a bitter irony –
we are fighting about fighting.

“You’ll be fine”, I say
and you grab my shoulders
with both hands,
pleading me to love you,
but sex is not love
and I only spread my legs for you.
Occasionally.

Time heals it all,
but you are so impatient
waiting for it,
that you check clocks and watches
all around you
more often than a hasty handle
ticks from number to number,
in hope
that maybe it’s
all-good-now o’clock.

Well it ain’t.

– Chatty Owl –