Not you.
I spill.
The drink.
Across the table.
Wet.
Like me.
Not you.
You curse.
Not me.
I smile.
It’s wet.
Me, not you.
You want it.
Wetter.
Me. Not you.
It’s you.
And me.
– Chatty Owl –
DELIBERATELY
I wait.
I pace.
I trip over my own shadow,
(deliberately),
because I want to find a reason for the pain
that lives inside me.
Memories about you
fade,
but not my anger,
that’s always present,
digging in,
like the bleakest night in arctic.
I sip cold coffee –
a reminder of those long evenings,
when you weren’t here,
and
I want to dilute my drink
with hot, salty tears,
(deliberately),
just so I could feel
some sort of taste
in this room of total confinement.
I want to hate you,
but I’m afraid
that’s too strong of an emotion,
so I just continue
to long for you,
(de-
li-
be-
ra-
te-
ly-)
because it’s more self-destructive
this way.
And i like it.
– Chatty Owl –
TWO SENTENCES
Once
I had the urge for you,
similar to that feeling you get
after a night out,
when all you want to do
is get home
and be comfortable
under the warm covers,
except that
covers are always soft
and I turned harsh
on you
right now.
I despise
how your tongue
forks out lies
in a form of honey-glazed words
and how your mouth
turns into the shape
of the infinity,
as you disguise your mistakes
in candy-coated letters
as
I eye you up,
and my sympathy
turns into anger,
which turns into inspiration,
that I’m not gonna thank you for,
because
me opening my mouth
is only good for other things,
and they surely
are not
please’s and thank you’s.
– Chatty Owl –
I KEEP ON DREAMING
Carefully placed fingers
press
against the pale shades of my skin,
that shivers in silence
and only evaporating heat
can be heard
in the still hours of this darkness.
Accidentally visible shadows
on the light blue wall
touch each other and
dance
to the music of their own movements,
forcing you to look up
and me to observe
– us –
in the form of faceless reflections
that are black in colour.
Your lips purposely sting mine
as I touch you
with a kiss,
which forces my crossed legs
do the opposite.
Trip over me, so we have a reason to touch.
– Chatty Owl –
TRY AGAIN
I remember
all burnt dinners and skipped breakfasts,
because you couldn’t face us
being in separate places,
so we stayed in bed instead,
counting.
You calculated days
that
we still have left
and I
summed up echoes
of those memories we had.
Numbers didn’t match,
but I knew it was because
our minds
were so pathetically different.
They still are.
– Chatty Owl –
MUSED, AMUSED
I mused,
amused by my body
screaming “sleep, girl!”
as my mind hissed back to keep my eyes open,
in case I will see you.
I’m sure you were standing
right there in front of me in the dark,
I just couldn’t trace your contours.
You were like white letters
on a white sheet of paper.
Just the opposite.
Those little details are important,
when you care,
my darling boy,
but I ignore them.
Like smart men ignore smart women,
who are just pretending to be smart.
Everybody pretends.
And then they all get tired,
like I get tired of learning from my own mistakes.
So I just make new ones,
bigger ones this time –
hoping
it will make my past look
more decent,
more forgivable,
less shameful,
guilt free.
I despise guilt, so I steer away from it.
If I could, I would number all my men
and forget their names for good.
Names give them personalities,
and those give them power.
There is a very thin line
between control and arrogance
and that thin line is me.
I mused,
amused by the sound
of a four letter word.
And I don’t mean the rude one
that you just thought about.
The other one.
– Chatty Owl –
COLD TOES
Sometimes I wonder
why can’t I like you
more
than those stinging questions you ask,
when you know that I lie
about every letter that leaves my filthy mouth,
yet
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
that
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 –
I HATE THAT MOMENT
There!
Just…right there.
Yes,
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
and
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,
because
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 –
TUESDAY
They all take me
in little portions and big gulps.
The fights for attention
end up
in loud noises and broken bones –
mine.
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
and
tastes like self-pity
and thats the worst
they could have done to me.
Resentment.
Fridays
are the least romantic days of the week,
but Tuesdays are the best for tears,
and thats all I’m gonna do today –
cry.
– Chatty Owl –
YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE
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 –
breathless.
Your eyes were screaming
words that start with “L”,
while I was counting
passing cars and
begging you
to keep your sentences
inside your
mouth,
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
moans
you cannot make.
I hate to say this,
but
I miss you.
– Chatty Owl –
CHATTYOWL 