Author S. K. Nicholas

x and i: a novel

a journal for damned lovers vol 1-3

  • The Art of Whatever

    Originally posted on SPO_OKY: Once upon a time I worked in a job that paid peanuts but was the best fucking job ever. I left home a few days before my 18th Birthday and went to live in a bedsit in Aberdeen. My Mum had told me that I shouldn’t leave home, just to get… Read more

  • Marble Skies

    Gore videos and alcohol and all the loveless lovers that cling to ghosts while looking up at the sky wishing for something when there’s nothing. Cigarettes and coffee and books on childhood trauma as some fat man gets his arms hacked off with a dull machete that prolongs the agony just fine. With his chubby… Read more

  • She Only Kisses On Thursdays

    Originally posted on jimmi campkin: She hides one eye behind a torrent of thick, globulous, dyed hair.  Teeth like an antique piano, I fantasise about their tune.  Lame, I know.  But then, I’m the guy who hovers around the beans, the peas and the tinned fish; with my squeaky trainers and leather trenchcoat; too big… Read more

  • The Dark Reality

    Originally posted on Chimera: I look around my house and people around me. All of them pretend to be educated, to be these modern thinkers who are literate and have this huge, fancy degrees. But what is the use of all of these fancy degrees when at the end of the day, their mind is… Read more

  • Sleepy

    To our left, there are fields of snow where animals shelter far below the visible horizon. The bus we’re on passes untouched lanes. It goes too fast, but the air of danger puts fire in our bellies and reminds us of what it was like to be reckless kids without fear or understanding of what… Read more

  • The Still Point

    Closing my eyes, I smell the beach and the scent of doughnuts and cotton candy and salted chips which seagulls do their best to lift from the piggy fingers of piggy children who only know what fruit looks like cause they saw it once on TV. Tilting my head to the sky feeling the warmth… Read more

  • Two Lost Souls

    Sainsbury’s café on a Saturday. Cup of tea and a bacon roll hot enough to burn the roof of my mouth. Rain falls outside, but in here, it’s warm and dry, so whatever. Paintings on the wall never change. Nor the items on the menu. But that’s okay because I don’t like change and neither… Read more

  • Like God

    Flowers to replace pain. And then pain to replace flowers. And then a Jackson Pollock to cut through everything else. With your back against the wall, you spend so long fighting to be real. With all your best intentions, you dedicate so many hours trying to do the right thing, but such things seldom bring… Read more

  • Fever Dream

    Good lord. No lord. Bombs. Dresden. Spread vulva and suicide. The band, not the act. Stick your fingers in and look at me. Flick your hair from your eyes and hold my gaze. Let me see my childhood, and let me see centuries gone and the wonders of the ancient world before they crumbled and… Read more

  • Still Awake

    Words to summon, and words to forget. Words as way of apologies, and words to bridge the gap. Words for broken lovers, and words for lovers that still love even though love never seems enough. These words, they drift around like memories and leaves. These words, they reach out and touch your face while you… Read more