Whenever my eyes rest upon her curves the urge to lower myself is beyond my control. She’s in bloom. She’s a shrew that can’t be tamed and whenever she’s with another it makes me want to taste her that little bit more. We walk and dance and spin and spit and kiss and fuck and shine and whenever my fingers search inside her mouth she wraps her tongue around my thumb while never taking her eyes from mine. Whenever she shimmers she strips and pushes me down upon the bed reducing me to that of a kid with bulging eyes in a candy store and even though I’m comparing her body to whatshername she wins hands down because no one makes me come like her. And yeah one day she’ll be old but so will I and yeah it’s cheap but so is everything. I’ve spent so long trying to figure stuff out and so many years doing my best to understand it but really who gives a damn? I say I’ll cut out the drinking and I say I should do this and do that but what matters most is that I write from the heart and fuck like there’s no tomorrow. What means more than anything is to love and be beautiful without feeling the need to give a reason because there are no reasons and there are no answers and the questions themselves pale in the face of what we seek behind the veil. The more we dance and smile and run through the fallen leaves the more I bite her neck and sniff her scent while rubbing my cock across her belly and yeah she says it’s not romantic but who needs romance when you’ve got nothing left to lose in a world that doesn’t care? And that’s what you’ve got to understand. No one cares, and that’s why I cry these tears of joy whenever I see a bird picking up a twig with its beak or a cat trying to snatch the wind with its paws because these things are so easily missed. These beautiful things, they are missed by almost everyone and that’s what makes it so worthwhile and even though she doesn’t see it I know she will. I know there will be a day when she realises that to exist isn’t in the eyes of others, it’s to be without form and to be as light as air. To be a thought. To be an idea. To be a feeling that’s as fleeting and as precious as a silently mouthed prayer.
A Journal for Damned Lovers on Amazon.co.uk
A Journal for Damned Lovers on Amazon.com
Categories: Lucid
Author S. K. Nicholas 
Your writing is crude, honest and beautiful. I havn’t come across anything like it. I love it.
That’s very kind of you, and I count myself grateful for such a compliment. It’s the greatest reward there is in writing these words x
Beauty in the overlooked, to always look for it amongst the little things. She will see it one day because you’ll show her. Last three lines are perfect. I think we’d all love that.
I would love to exist like that all the time- and to not keep getting caught up in the mundane. The version of life you present in your photography and poetry is a constant inspiration. It lifts me whenever I’m stuck in a funk x
It would be rather wonderful, but would you appreciate it as much without the offset of mundane? But I do know what you mean, I find it hard to switch my headspace between the two when I’m writing, that’s when I need a PA so I can just carry on writing. That’s such a kind and beautiful thing to say and think. Thank you. Most of my posts start sad and I write until I find the positive. Not all of them, but enough. You do know my version is also anyone’s if they look 😉 x
Yes, I guess you’re right in regards to that. The boring moments make the beautiful ones taste that bit more sweeter. I guess it does depend on how each individual person approaches life, but your vision seems to set the bar x
This is EVERYTHING! 💜
I’ll repeat: a prophet xo
❤ xo
What inspires you to write so beautifully? Are they based on your personal life?
They are. Mostly everything I write is based on past experiences, with a few bits and pieces thrown in for good measure. I’m so glad you enjoyed reading this one 🙂