ABOVE THE GROUND

A hundred thousand feet
above the ground,
and all I can think of
is your arms,
full of me.
I was marking days in a calendar,
awaiting that moment
of our half-full glasses
making an overflow of feelings,
but now
I’m drinking myself stupid
and my glass
is always empty
instead.
Yes, they say
that
time heals all wounds,
but I’m self-harming myself
to oblivion,
making the irony sweet
and
the sarcasm sweeter.
I’m re-reading your letters
as others try to decipher my moods
and palms,
and even the remains
of my old coffee.
I leave them all
blank-faced and confused,
because
I hide it so well.
A hundred thousand feet
above the ground.

– Chatty Owl –

NOT TODAY

Messy hair
is just a fracture
of a true mess inside your mind,
but like a careful guide
you beckon my body
to follow yours.
It’s a dance
with no rules,
but so beautifully in tune
to a perfection.
We always are though, right?
I chew
like a dog on a bone
these muffled words of yours,
as they leave your hollow mouth
into mine.
I’m sucking dry
the drops of your attention,
but somehow
leave you wanting me
instead.
I don’t write about matters
of my own heart,
‘cos I dont have one
and love affairs
always end
in the same way
as does my impeccable acting –
like a proof,
that I can lie
so well.
But not today.

– Chatty Owl –

MILKED

White dented skin,
marked with careful precision
of
accidental wounds.
I look over my shoulder
instead of looking at your face
and it makes it all glamorous
and justifying,
as if I was posing
for that perfect picture.
Your salty fingers
end up invading my mouth,
stopping me
from screaming out the truth,
so what you get
are forced, silent lies.
Deaf
to the sound of ill-coloured heart
and blind
to the pale indifference we both share,
we let our exhaled breaths float
in the night around us.
I strike you as cold,
but it’s just that
I don’t like crying
over spilled milk.

– Chatty Owl –

I MISS YOU

Your silent words,
sealed lips,
like an envelope of a letter
I’m dreading to open.
You gift me with a quiet torture,
an abandon treatment
and I know,
there is only an empty sheet of paper
inside.

Withhold the sentences
and words,
and cryptic letters,
forget the exclamation marks
that turn to
questions,
forget the signatures
and crinkled corners –
I’m holding this,
that’s nothing more than pile of dust –
imagination,
wishful thinking,
a gust of wind and whispers in the grass.

I thank you for nothing,
yet
I have to thank you.

– Chatty Owl –

CARPET BURNS TIMES FIVE

Faint smell,
lingering on my fingers
is a constant reminder
of
those flawless hugs,
tongue-tied sentences
and
over-exposed film
that you used
on me
the night before.
It was black-cat-dark
and so softly purring
when
I came
(to you),
like a moon-child chasing paper
as I tried to stay
untraced
under your skin,
leaving you guilt and memory free
of us,
except I failed
and left
long black hair
scattered on your floor
while
every single carpet burn
now
means
that you cannot forget me.

Try?

– Chatty Owl –

RAINBOW

You gaze at me,
I gaze out the window
as
we both touch the same wallpaper,
peeling,
but the patterns stain fingers
in different colours –
my green is your no
and your blue is the new red.
Mix it up.
Shake it,
but the results are always the same –
dirty brown.
Like an out of date rainbow.

– Chatty Owl –

CONVENIENT MOODS

Come.
A bit closer.
Do you remember how you used to toy around
with my fingers
while
I toyed with your heart
and we both blamed the playful moods
and
relationship faux pas?
Jealousy used to leak
like words
out of our mouths
and we soaked them all back
with our brittle lips
and dry kisses
of rehearsed attraction.
Do you remember,
how you didn’t complain
and I didn’t mention
that I notice it?

– Chatty Owl –

THIEF

Clothes. Torn.
Like my heart in your hands.
In pieces.

I scream. Loud to your mind.
To drown the guilt.
We both hear.

Neck. Arched.
So is my back.
To make you want my legs.
Around you.

Are you the type
that falls in love
with taken men?

I am the type
that steals them.

– Chatty Owl –

YOUR POWER

Your words
are stronger
than my own hands,
squeezing
my fast beating heart
in moments
of a desperate anxiety,
making it
too difficult to breathe
and so easy
to cry.
And I do,
until salty tears
become a
tasteless aftertaste
of the decision
that
I need you.
Now.

– Chatty Owl –

CAGED FRIENDSHIP

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Words of apology
hardly ever leave my mouth.
Guarded
by the maze of embarrassment
and tunnels of arrogant vanity,
they stay right
where
they (don’t) belong –
inside.
(Like your body parts
inside me
in the morning).
I like to wonder
about
what colour are your thoughts
when you think about me,
but then…
does it really matter?
I’m not your friend
any more.
Friends
are for when things go wrong
and you need a shoulder
or two
to cry on.
And lovers –
for when one is happy,
because
there is no better way
than to share your joy and money
with someone
you’re attracted to.
I’m not your friend,
because
you chose
to share your happiness
with me.

– Chatty Owl –