Our stories add up
like multiplying numbers –
a progression
that has no end in your mind,
but digresses in sadness
that already met its end.
Suddenly nothing sums up –
life is all about a lottery,
wishful thinking is a promise of better days,
but in the end…
…it’s just a useless piece of
floating paper
you throw in the air.


Thirteen times loved,
I turn to face the wall,
so I wouldn’t need to witness
yet another one
falling head over heels
in love with

Those carefully chosen slivers
of my life
were always purposely placed
at all the right places –
a clever subliminal advertisement,
affecting your human nature –
involuntary curiosity.

I’m not a mind reader, baby.
I’m just observant.

I flooded your life
with mysterious attention
I wove bits of love
around your antsy fingers,
every time our hands touched.
Again and again,
until the weight of yearning
and all this unexplainable desire
was way too difficult to handle.

I let go,
taking the warmth of my hand
with me.
You broke.
And like a vulture,
I devoured all of you into nothingness.

– Chatty Owl –


Voice version of the poem

I push your hugs away from me –
the warmth evaporates
into the cold mist of gloomy London,
and that’s what makes this city
so beautiful –
an expired love of forgotten craving.

It’s a factory of pleasure.

I stop clocks
and slowly break the time in half
before it breaks
into a million pieces of (un)reserved
seconds for you.
They drip
and gallop at a pace of my falling tears.

That are not even real.

I transform myself
from one bird into another,
disguising my feathers
under camouflaged colours of attraction.

I know you want to pick me up
and take me home.
Oh baby,
I’m not that domestic.

– Chatty Owl –


Your absence is not an empty room.
it’s an all-filling feeling
of total devastation.
With you gone,
so is my ability to sleep.
You ripped my heart out
and made my lungs empty of air.
I watched myself fade,
when I sat in front of the mirror,
and I couldn’t decide,
if I’m just evaporating into thin air,
or are tiny particles of me
flying around the world,
looking for you.
You left,
and took away all my strength
that I possessed.
You left me with one thing only –
that longing feeling,
that made my chest tight,
eyes dry,
and my life empty.
I miss you,

– Chatty Owl –


You say it’s so easy
to lose yourself with me.
Especially when we kiss
with our eyes open
and you know
that I’ll never ask questions,
saving you from awkward answers
as you watch me
right there, by the window,
with hardly any clothes on
and armed with strong black coffee
to keep my eyes and my mind
You always remind me,
that your life is a ball of yarn,
knotted together with coloured strings
of happiness,
and I often tug at it,
pulling a string or two,
making it roll my way.
I sigh
at the sight of you
getting aroused in this moment,
even though we both know,
I’m here to break your heart
and you’re here to let me do it.
Cross your fingers
as I uncross my legs,
if you’re lucky enough,
you won’t see me again.

– Chatty Owl –


Don’t say a word.
hinges of your perfectly shaped mouth
but I don’t want those teary words
Hug me,
just don’t promise
everything will be alright.
I lied
when I said I want you
to tell me what I want to hear –
I don’t really want to listen
to the vacant efforts
that we made once.
Our love is a sad slow dance
in an empty house,
where we twirl each other
towards a cold standstill
of the end.

– Chatty Owl –


Do you even realise,
how much I miss your dark eyes
looking at me
and guessing my every thought
You were the one,
that set my inner bird free,
turning every bar of my cage
into an opportunity.
And I flew…
I flew like a feathery cloud across skies.
Six times around the world.
And you chased after me
in the most endearing way,
that it turned my single journey
into a trip
with no bad comebacks.
I still remember
how you entered my heart
with music,
and stayed inside
long enough
to make me twitch with pleasure.
I have never experienced anything
greater than that.
Turn around
Turn around, goddamit!
And let me love you again.

– Chatty Owl –


I wish I was a flat shadow,
reflected on pages of your favourite book,
so you could carry me around,
like an imprint of a flower,
that has dried in the heat of your palms,
preserving all the bright colours
that I am.
How often do I wish
to be this fool of a girl,
that is not affected by her own soul
and thoughts, that cause insomnia
and madness from within.
It must be liberating
to be so ludicrous,
so I’m asking you
to turn me into one.

– Chatty Owl –

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