Sometimes I wonder
why can’t I like you
than those stinging questions you ask,
when you know that I lie
about every letter that leaves my filthy mouth,
you ask me anyway.
Empty letterbox reminds me of a promise
to be
never in need,
never in love,
but you persist stepping on my naked toes
and I keep on reminding you
we are just two lovers,
stuck in a daylight nightmare.

Every day is a comfort of fake and I lower my eyes, when you ask me,
will I love you tomorrow.
Silence could never be as loud.

– Chatty Owl –


Just…right there.
right this moment,
when warm shower becomes
a rain of scolding cold.
That moment,
when careful footsteps in the night
stop right outside your door
all you can do is
listen to your own scared heart-beat
and pray that you are dreaming.
Right that moment,
when you realise you lost your keys
and nobody will let you in,
you chose to live alone.
(Years ago).

This is that moment.

And I know
you know
the feeling
I’m talking about…
That moment,
when I realised that all these words
were not for me.

I hate that moment.

– Chatty Owl –


They all take me
in little portions and big gulps.
The fights for attention
end up
in loud noises and broken bones –
Greedy hands and
sugar coated sentences
melt right in my mouth
and all I want to do
is spit them all out
and forget the taste
of attraction
they have for me.
I envy
happy lives of others
and secure doors to one’s future.
It smells like jealousy
tastes like self-pity
and thats the worst
they could have done to me.


are the least romantic days of the week,
but Tuesdays are the best for tears,
and thats all I’m gonna do today –

– Chatty Owl –


Three lose buttons on my shirt
and you chose the one
that’s so difficult to fiddle with,
leaving you frustrated
and me annoyed,
but us both –

Your eyes were screaming
words that start with “L”,
while I was counting
passing cars and
begging you
to keep your sentences
inside your

so I could swallow
vowels of your words
(the ones that you arrange
so neatly in-between
your fingers)
and make new sounds
that rhyme with
you cannot make.

I hate to say this,
I miss you.

– Chatty Owl –


I had to change my name,
because my face didn’t fit your hands
as it used to
and when you kissed me,
there were no sparks to prove,
that we are in love.
I like the thought of you
(un)dressed on my bed,
but it’s not easy for me
to hang my clothes
on your peg of honesty,
so I just throw them on the floor –
the same place, where
you used to tell me,
how you enjoy the smell
of my just-washed hair.
You write prose about your past
and I (un)write poems about the future,
because I don’t have one.
I want to stare at your face
all three hundred minutes
and no breaks,
but I still won’t be able to see
past that mask of yours
and guess the name
of your first girlfriend.
Sometimes I drag my nails
across walls and floorboards
trying to find that perfect word
to describe
how much I want to hate you,
but it takes three seconds
to find a web of words
to express the emotion I have
for your blue eyes, that
are not blue after-all.
Creative monsters live in walls
of my bedroom,
but only on those days,
when you’ve slept in my bed
and left socks on the stairs –
like a reminder,
that you will crawl back
inside my mind again.
Like a snake in the grass.
Like my hand in your pants.
I wear a shirt with no bra
and I drink coffee with no sugar,
but I cover my eyes in front of strangers
and I disguise whiskey in my coffee,
when the clock strikes 7 in the morning,
this is the time,
when people have lunch in Japan
and I like eating in good company.
With strangers.
You told me to quit lying,
but I never even tried
doing it,
so don’t patronise me about things
I have not intended to do,
until you offered
I slipped.

– Chatty Owl –