I remember the odour
of your leather
while deafening German sounds
were slowly killing me
with a desire
to never stop kissing you.
I remember the scent
of your embraces,
they felt like you
were borrowing my life
for some freak show.
Years later,
I’m here again,
in the sweet spot
of square one –
same name,
different letters,
and yet another indescribable feeling
of loss,
just in reverse this time.
I looked up to you
so much,
it started to feel
like a hungover cocktail
of hot and cold.
more than by any other experience
in the past,
I finally overdosed.
On you.
And it seemed like a such good decision.

– Chatty Owl –


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 –
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 –

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