Author S. K. Nicholas

Convulsing speed freaks. Split straight down the middle. The sky is a glass mosaic. Marbles on the sidewalk. Grass as high as thighs. Deep in the heart of a static problematic. This machinery is a phantom. It’s just a relic of some other time and place. Wiped out without warning. Cut into pieces by rising tides. Words come tumbling. They flicker like liquor. Burning insides, drowned in acid tongues and new born lungs. The ocean floor is mirrored in the back of my mouth. Teeth as markers, stained by lost adolescence. Pregnant with infamy. Deplored by proletarian cunts. Rust coloured lovers, so much so like abandoned cars in a forest. Vines wrapped around metal. Natural selection, breaking bones and the taste of smoke. He rings like a bell. All cracked and hard to sell. She dies a little death, every time he utters her name. How near and how far. Destroyed like stars forever destined to illuminate the darkness with wonder. And we all last just a matter of seconds. Nothing sticks around any longer. So tiny we are, in a universe that grows colder and colder. With no end in sight, there’s nowhere to go. Beaten with horse whips. Shackled to yesterday. We all come undone, blown to bits and banished to kingdom come.