Author S. K. Nicholas

x and i: a novel

a journal for damned lovers vol 1-3

Lucid

  • Exit Signs On Sidewalk Nine

    Ancient statues. Burning lanterns. Arrows piercing flesh and bone. Arrows inside the temple of the mind. Golden Pavilions, and luscious gardens of wheat and aged dolls. Porcelain flesh. Guerillas in the midsts of somewhere unseen. Animal instinct. Time ticking out. A car crashes in foreign lands; dust and burning suns screaming as a soul not… Read more

  • Survivalism

    Illicit. Complicit. A sandcastle of hopes and fears, dissolved as the quarter circle sun spins out of control on the horizon. All the love in the world. All the sex you could ever muster, smeared across your chest. The beating drums of faith, ringing in your pretty little ears. Holes of abstraction. Fit me together,… Read more

  • Myst

    Her beauty slithers through the night. She’s champagne, bubbling beneath a crescent moon. She comes around without warning. A warm soul, burning with a passion when others are just so lifeless. The spice in her veins. The truth of her footsteps. On thin ice, we dance because we mean it. We bleed because we feel… Read more

  • Tell Me What You See Inside

      When you tear away from what you don’t need, let me know what you see inside. Picking scabs just won’t do. Peel back all of your flesh and let me in. Let me catch a glimpse of the secrets you keep so well hidden. Eclipsed by misery no longer, give me a chance to… Read more

  • Heartbreaker

    She sings of depth perception in my viewing lens. She watches as her cigarette bounces in the rain. There’s sadness in her eyes, and untold fire in her belly, and I imagine her lying next to me, sprinkling secrets on my pillow. The shades drawn, she’s hidden in my arms. Soundless shapes, eclipsed by highways… Read more

  • Be What You Want

    Life is a series of accidents. Some good, some bad. The stuff we plan is usually boring. Things to pass the time of day. Things to occupy ourselves, to take our minds off more meaningful subjects. Y’know, love and death. The heavy shit. Everything I’ve ever planned has been half-hearted. Nothing has ever interested me… Read more

  • Fall Into My Arms

    Give yourself to the arms of fate. Let someone save you when you need saving most. Don’t be afraid to speak the words you hide inside. Don’t be afraid to open up for fear of being shunned. Be crazy with devotion. Love until it makes you sick. What’s the point in keeping it all in… Read more

  • Snuff

    Poetry in suffering. In drinking too much. In self-abuse and the dissolution of pointless bones. The mad should be worshipped, and the sane boiled in their own self-righteousness. Outcasts and dreamers. Eaters of words, and takers of hearts. If you can’t sleep, fuck. If you can’t fuck, sleep. The golden sentence, dancing behind black’d out… Read more

  • This Is What You Wanted

    Melancholia. Cities of dust. States of mind, flowing like endless rivers. People dance, others collapse. My mouth takes a drag on a cigarette. It blows out smoke to the blackened sky above. Beer and whiskey, churning in a greedy belly. Sleep stirs in the future. Unconscious desires, creeping in the shadows and at the nape… Read more

  • We Are The Dead

    Under a spreading chestnut tree, I saw you, and you saw me. It’s raining. Sometimes snowing. These days, they sway like dying trees. Love in the burning embers of a fire. Emotion, so warm against pale skin. The air smells of insects. It tastes of leaves and dying dreams. The fall of another year, but… Read more