Author S. K. Nicholas

Autumn loss and breasts that bounced upon unwashed bedsheets. In the neon light they captivated whilst the universe danced at a loss. All avenues of time colliding whilst my hands held your arms tightly behind your back. You were mine. In reality and in dreams, you belonged to me. Heat death and big crunches. Shooting seed and the falling of internal walls. Visions of heavenly plateaus whilst the ghosts took photographs of us as we slipped out of time. Your eyes never lied, even when everything else fell to the wayside. Roadkill and miscarriage. Acne and black’d out beliefs. The smell of your sex, and the scent of the perfume you used to cover it. The more focused I become, the madder I get. Madness swallowing me like that pretty little mouth of yours. Organic lovers, always and never on the tip of my tongue. I’ve known a few, yet they’ve never known me. My condition isn’t failure, it’s just a way of preventing adulthood. Longing for peace like the way the sky used to carry above your slender bones. Drink and cigarettes. I don’t know why, but you’ve changed my chemistry. You’ve made me someone out of reach. Sleep soothes my pain, it eases the hate. Cheating hearts and passive truths. Let me blow smoke and just ease into the clouds. Let me drift like newspapers in the wind. Leaves in the breeze, and kisses upon tired necks. I’m not a myth, I’m just a soft machine. I’m not forever, I’m just doing my thing until I’m taken home to the great gig in sky. I’m sorry for everything, it’s just the way I fell without knowing how to fall. So many places, so many faces. They escape me like sorrow, drenching my clothes like the sins of the scum that surround me.