"Owls are not what they seem"
It’s not a secret,
I have a thousand flaws.
I line them up upside my head
and observe their stubbornness to never leave me.
(You did though)
Fresh cut grass – one of my favourite smells,
yet it’s funny
that I like something that’s just been cut.
Sliced.
Beheaded.
(I should do the same to all my imperfections)
Everything happens for a reason, they say.
How do they know?
Careful attempts to come closer,
you estimate your actions,
you count your steps
while counting on my mouth,
ajar,
to invite you nearer
as I whisper you secrets
about my inner beauty
and broken parts of my heart,
making you remember
every moment
that was my past,
and now it’s going to be your future.
You put yourself above the rest,
sharing tea with me becomes
your obsession,
a herbal drug of a hooked up soul,
adjusting schedules to fit my needs,
as I adjust myself between your legs
in return.
You melt into the warmth of my skin
wanting to conquer
every living corner of my mind,
so you could fill it
with the presence of yourself,
but that’s only
if I let you.
– Chatty Owl –
I love delicious meat on a plate.
Sometimes it’s a dry turkey,
some days it’s a cock(rel).
Wet in my mouth.
– Chatty Owl –
I’m invisible.
Observing lives of other people
and picking fragments that I like
to make one of my own.
My sobs are loud,
but get mistaken for a thunder –
feared,
ignored,
dismissed
as something that will eventually pass.
Like a gulp of a windy day
in one’s mouth.
– Chatty Owl –
I slashed my wrists,
because you made my life miserable.
And in response you blamed me
for ruining your carpet.
– Chatty Owl –
A fantasy. A dream
that I woke up from.
My fractured mind wanted you so badly.
Like an injured fox,
I craved you to look at me.
After me.
Through me.
I wanted you to feel me from inside
and
allow me to glow in your spotlight.
To belong to you
is something I’m so scared of.
I want to feel your firm hand,
tender kisses,
strict commands
and your sweet orders.
Yet…
I’m hiding in the cave
with a twisted ankle and an injured heart,
leaving me unable to walk to you
in this dream turned
fantasy.
– Chatty Owl –
Don’t say a word.
Rust
-y
hinges of your perfectly shaped mouth
cry,
but I don’t want those teary words
escaping.
Hug me,
just don’t promise
that
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 –
Gullible sounds of city’s bones
crunch under my heels –
it’s powerful.
But so is your desire for me.
I told you many times,
I’m contagious.
Like a yawn,
that travels in waves of unspoken words,
yet everybody hears them.
Sometimes I wonder,
why can’t I hear you calling my name
anymore,
and then I remember –
I asked you not to.
Yet here I am,
thinking about you again.
And wanting to be touched
by your words –
it’s like a challenging game.
And I like playing.
– Chatty Owl –
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 –
