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As the rain falls outside, there are no mountains left to find. There were none to begin with, though. They were just illusions like everything else. Illusions of a sick mind, abstractions that my ill body refused to give up on. There have never been any mountains, beneath the sea or above it. I fabricated… Read more
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It’s just something that needs to be done. Something that fills me up with love. Warm spunk, ready to cover a temple of imperfection. Ready to infect, and to desecrate all that I deem fit. There’s not enough truth in fluid if you ask me. Not enough viscera. Sucking mouths and breasts. Placing fingers in… Read more
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downing a few beers and smoking a cigarette swinging on a busted tyre that hangs from a broken tree broken like teenage dreams yeah that’s just how it is how it’s always been they think I’m clean but I’m dirty oh so dirty and I can’t help but put this shit inside of me it’s… Read more
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Shedding skin and cracked teeth. The things you see on the streets, and the horrors of first light. The parade of carcass’s, attracting flies and lying eyes. It drains me to breathe the same air as them, to go through the motions of such banality. To pretend that it’s worthwhile and that the days have meaning… Read more
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It’s in the trees, and upon her skinny wrists. It’s somewhere out of reach, and floating in the clouds. (Angel come closer, and bring me your dreams) All those yesterdays, those forgotten months and washed out faces. When life is somehow false, an apparition appears of what living should really be. When happiness is a… Read more
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They think they know what it means, but what it really means, is stained into their hollow little bones. Yeah, the ones wrapped in cheapened flesh, painted for the eyes of all the non believers. In the plagued, desperate streets, they parade themselves as if it were something worth seeing. As if it were somehow… Read more
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All is serene, and my body feels good as I step into the garden. Sitting cross-legged on the grass, I roll a cigarette while listening to birdsong. It’s a beautiful sound, and as the birds fly above my head between the trees, the smell of freshly cut grass makes the moment that little bit sweeter.… Read more
Author S. K. Nicholas 