Author S. K. Nicholas

x and i: a novel

a journal for damned lovers vol 1-3

Self Portraits

  • Just a boy

    Storms and riderless horses and ice ages whilst the curvy girls scowl at the flat chested girls + yet I’m not watching just drinking as the sun burns my pale skin + It’s not that I’m scared of dying it’s just that I don’t want to know the truth because I already know and it’s Read more

  • Such is Life

      To think of all those endless walls of doubt. You ask yourself what you dream of, and then if you’re willing to make it happen. If it leads you down a solitary road, will you be prepared to do what it takes to keep walking? Emerging from the shadows, the bright lights look so Read more

  • Picture

    Myself and a volcano. All things transitory, passing always like those dirty calender days. Read more

  • Something in the Way

    something in the way  a brokenness so numb  forever mocking like an enemy  the days go on  they  frustrate  only letting go when sleep comes calling  it’s a damned journey  but the only way out  is through  Read more

  • Self Portrait on Train

    English wanker on a train Wordless vigilante no longer  (most of the time)  Read more

  • NYE & Lovely Bones

    Buildings in the sky. Markings on humble bodies. Low income dreams. Individual fantasies on a grand scale. Aggressive yet passive. Demonic yet platonic. Stray dogs in California. Insomnia in your local cemetery. Day to day lust. Suburbs to the crystal hills. City black’d guns. Shut your windows. Keep closed your doors. Sixteen years pretty, a Read more

  • Step Into The Sun

    Larks tongue in silhouette. Smouldering looks as the moon hangs high above. Tip toe through willow trees. Man as monster. As imposter. In the valley of dolls the weak will cling with empty devotion. They’ll melt in the face of infinity. She sings in cycles of seven. She sleeps with clouds so soft and unspoken. Read more

  • Howl

    I bought a mask so I could howl to the moon and feel like it meant something. I’ve been howling for years, but it’s only now that it feels worthwhile. I howled in pain once, but no one listened, and no one came. Oh well, such is life.  Read more

  • Wallflower

    Self portrait as wallflower. I trimmed my beard. I look forwards with bored eyes never smiling. Swirling like cinnamon. Swirling like cigarette smoke. Sepia memories. Autumn feelings getting lost with deadened leaves. The blah blah blah of aching hearts. Tingling spines and release. Little deaths galore, one finger at a time.  Read more

  • Sometimes I Make You Sad

    Sometimes, all a man has is the ability to make a woman sad. There’s something in seeing the tears roll down her face that makes us feel some sense of worth. Maybe it’s control, or we’re just impotent in love and compassion. Monsters, aren’t we all. So dumb and numb, we attack beauty in an attempt Read more