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All I want is to be alone. Sunshine through the dirty blinds; a lack of oxygen watching American Psycho for the seventh time in a week. I am an exit, but deep inside I wish only to be beautiful. Self-preservation. Denial in the face of crowds. Illusionary conditions while drinking tea watching the morning… Read more
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It’s in the passage of time that passes invisibly. Sometimes, I want to hold you close and say it’ll be forever; only there’s too much junk keeping us apart. The words do their best to pick me up, yet it’s so easy to revert inwards and not feel a thing. I change my mind;… Read more
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Your country is the night, and I’m just a stranger on foreign shores. Those underpasses and the taste of electricity on your neck; they make me shake with rage. Fantasies about the times when pleasure and love were all there ever was. Serenade them as if they were the sun, just make sure never… Read more
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Some very beautiful words x/o Read more
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Between the sheets with nature and soft machines. Contemporary horrors and the flavour of existence picking away at you somewhere between your shoulder blades. Belly-dancing on the streets as you skip from bar to bar. Trash and flowing alcohol all around, we move without sound to where the night keeps on growing. Black stockings. Videotapes… Read more
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Originally posted on jimmi campkin: (Originally posted for Howwwl, May 11th 2014) Why are you so quiet? What’s wrong with you? A colleague at work asked me this last week. It’s an interesting question, and to be fair to her, it isn’t the first time I’ve had it thrown at me. It’s also quite tricky… Read more
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I collected a vision of her, of her walking towards a point overlooking the town. A place where the sun smashes down, and she goes there, planting her hips, ready to flower, and I follow her, because she’s a beginning. Everything that moves goes away from here, but that’s already happened. Upon waking, I light… Read more
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Riddle me this, with larks rising and eyelids carved with symbols. In ivory tusk, she stalks the ground and spreads herself like a ballerina. In the second sun of Autumn, all divided hearts are replaced with crescent moons. She’s floating over snow, and suspended from beams of light. Her lips warm like honey, a… Read more
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Coyote eyes as he stalks the luminous ground. Girl undressing, she’s pert and concerned. White. Prescription drugs. A carjacking with bullets galore. Cocaine nights, and rivers of alcohol that drown stray cats. Carbon friends down stairwells. Abandoned high-rise. She turns sideways causing me to lick my lips. The shape of her breasts, like crescent… Read more
Author S. K. Nicholas 