Art
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This was taken on my birthday. I am thirty. Old and young at the same time. Full of dreams, and haunted by ghosts. I’m lazy. I’m an underachiever. I’m bored. I’m full of secrets. Never grow up. Never act your age. Do what you want. Always. Read more
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I’ve only been working on the novel a few days, but already I’m possessed. The energy and passion are back with me like they were all those years ago. All doubt is removed. No, not just removed, but obliterated. I feel as though I can walk through walls, as if the boundaries that were once… Read more
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Bare feet on the freeway. Absent lovers and blood red lips. Plump and full. Sweat dripping into my eyes, the vehicles speed past so vacant and cool. Killers on the loose, all over the papers. Ink on my fingers, then in my mouth. Crushed metal, and the way her nipples caress that fine dress of… Read more
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Ink across the eyes, moving invisibly like ghosts. Woken by a car alarm, dreams of a sexual nature shattered making me bury my head beneath a pillow in despair. It was a good dream as well. So much flesh and desire. So much warmth, only to be lost so cruelly in an instant. Sunshine shining… Read more
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It seems that going mad was the best thing that ever happened to me. Before the breakdown of my relationship, and the mess that followed, I’d become complacent. Writing didn’t mean that much to me. Yes, I was working on a novel, but that had been reduced to wallpaper long beforehand. Whenever I tried to… Read more
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Writing gives me two things. The first is an incredible sense of freedom. The second a plateau of loneliness. You need to cut yourself off from people to write, that’s as simple as anything. But it’s not just about needing time alone to physically write, it’s about meditating- losing yourself in your head. Sometimes, I spend… Read more
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Scrubbing her skin, she’s stood divided before false mirrors. Excited, a lovers touch echoes somewhere in the back of her mind. The way he used to take her, his hands shedding her clothes to the bedroom floor. It was something I did very well. Crucifix cuts across my arms, the act is initiated with… Read more
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Symbols and keys to soft machines and madness. They deceive themselves whilst I suck on my cigarette. They chew themselves up as I remove her clothes and see just how lean she really is. I’m not a monster though, I’m just curious. The stars burn behind my eyes, have done for years. The outer… Read more
Author S. K. Nicholas 