Author S. K. Nicholas

  The moon isn’t my friend. It’s like a lover that’s drifted far out of reach from my arms, and every time I gaze up at her pale face, I’m reminded of what once was, and what once was, was a beautiful thing. The sky is filled with clouds and a river with so many… Read more

  We talk about sex and death and what it means to be inhuman humans. We discuss the flavour and never the facts, and with every drink that gets downed our hearts pump perversely so perverse in fact it does us more harm than good. Do we want to be in love with what can… Read more

  How many lovers has it been? How many dreams have ended when they found out what she was really like? I make my excuses while she takes a shower and head back to mine. She howls and screeches but I’m far too drunk to take any notice. It’s been thirteen years since my dog… Read more

  There’s a porno magazine filled with hundreds of earwigs. When you shake the pages they fall out and blow in the wind like confetti. Humming Pink Moon to yourself while admiring the images of so many nude women, you wonder what it would’ve been like to have kissed the lips of Nick Drake. I’m… Read more

  How long can you wait? How much time are you prepared to spend earning your wings? She doesn’t know, which is why her days are spent being numb. She drinks. She fucks. She swallows a tablet here and there to take her mind off things, but it never seems to work. Between the sheets,… Read more

  While sleeping, she dips her toes into pools of shimmering oil. While breathing, she slips between layers and visits every lover that’s had her right where they wanted. Each one left his mark, and each one is now but a shadow by the side of the road. Squeezing tight her eyes, she sees the… Read more

  You lose, and yet you win. You collapse but come together a different entity entirely. Take hold of my hand and let me pull you into my dream. Speak a sentence that gets beneath my skin and say something that will make this cold heart of mine beat like it used to. Listen to… Read more

    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… Read more

  There’s a memory of me submerged in the bath during the weeks of my breakdown. Motionless for the best part of an hour, the water was slowly turning cold, but it didn’t seem to matter that much. Guilt is a terrible thing, and yet, in the long run, I guess it set me free… Read more