Tag: writing

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WISPY

You’re pulling strings,
subtly tugging
on my attention.
I arrest my shy ways
around you,
and we both show our smiles
in a cold morning sun.
Words weave their way
round branches
and twigs,
leaving my mouth
and floating into yours,
where you taste them
with your inquisitive tongue.
You twist my mind
into a wisp,
and I repeatedly
open my eyes,
to feel the thrill of ecstasy
(every time I do so)
of seeing you’re still here,
kissing me.
You make me sigh and lick
my lips, until
I feel the coldness of a wind
kissing me in return.
You’ve disappeared,
leaving an owl
hanging.

– Chatty Owl –

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CHINESE TEA

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 –

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ANY TOM, DICK AND HARRY

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 –

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STANDSTILL

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 –

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MUSE

I expand in your thoughts,
like an overflowing river,
that divides east and west
of the universe.
We were always on opposite sides,
as if someone placed us there
to see,
if we would fight an honest battle,
or just nonchalantly ignore
each other’s presence.
I have this unexplainable inkling
to return to your world
with a bang,
to shatter glasses on your desk,
and become the muse
of your sober days.
I want to seduce
your ability to stay awake
for hours, endlessly,
and I want to wet your lips
with my blood
instead of the wine
we used to share from one glass.
I want to be the secret,
that you have hidden away
under floorboards.

I want to do it so much,
I just don’t know how to.

– Chatty Owl –

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NEVER YOURS

Senses are suppressed,
dimmed like lights in the hallway,
where I often pace up and down –
it feels like stepping into the mystery of your mind,
and very often I feel a need to explore
the more obvious corners of it.
Exposed patches on the wall
usually hold the biggest secrets.

Half-sided pain
acts like a motivation to deal with this darkness,
that slowly falls on me here.
Seized opportunities on the right,
lost chances on the left,
and I’m balancing on a thin line of
now.

You never faced me,
never stood in front,
you always casually appeared somewhere behind me,
as if you were always scared
to expose your scarred soul.
The irony,
because I know
that you can sense my duality
of a fallen human
and a newly-proclaimed mermaid.

Reality is always fishy,
if you scale it down to little details,
and swallow them like vitamins,
believing that if you take life in small doses,
it will not affect you as much.
Bristle chunks of the past
tickle your conscience mad
and get stuck in the windpipe –
it causes you to reach out for me,
as if I’m your only chance to survive –
a supply of fresh air
underwater,
where I roam in my newly-discovered destiny
as a siren –
a creature of the unknown abyss –
someone too slippery to grasp.

That’s why I’m still,
refusing to turn around,
because I can feel the pain subsiding,
which means only one thing –
I imagined you again.

– Chatty Owl –

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SO FOOLISH

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
screaming,
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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SEPTEMBER

20130928-104900.jpg

I miss you
and the memory
that never happened.
I refused an image of you,
because I knew it will haunt me like
a pirate’s curse.
I’m under your spell,
without you knowing.
I’d like a war, a battle,
that’s more feisty than today,
because right now,
I fight alone,
and you are nowhere near this field.
I want to find you
in the crowd of strangers,
at the station,
and fall to the ground
like a descending autumn colour,
to ask for your forgiveness
once again.
And again.
And a thousand times more.
I played my life
as fair as I could these years,
but nothing came close to wanting
to belong to you
so much.

– Chatty Owl –

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FRUITY

“You are twisted
and your tongue permanently tastes of cherries” –
you say,
but I just tie cherry knots
with my fruit-infused tongue,
and laugh at your complaints
of my unapproved manner.

You collect seashells and listen to them,
when you get home,
and it upsets you,
when I say,
that you’re listening
to the sound of your own blood.
Circulating.

You bite your lip
and draw some of that red juice,
as if proving the point
that I’m wrong.

Well, I’m not.

So I just carry on
twisting my tongue
around those cherry stems.

– Chatty Owl –