Author S. K. Nicholas

x and i: a novel

a journal for damned lovers vol 1-3

Creative Writing

  • Choke

      Some people know nothing. In fact, make that most of them. They know little of love that’s for sure. As for pain, they think they know it, yet what they feel is only the tip of the iceberg. They’ve only scratched the surface, and it’s a long way down to the bottom. It’s at… Read more

  • Glimpses of Images

      Drinking wine, blood trickles from my busted knuckle. The red mist took hold, just for a second, but I lost it nonetheless. A phantom in the throes of fantasy, I was snapped out of my little taste of bliss. Somewhere nearby, I hear the keys of a piano being played so sullenly it eases… Read more

  • Big Nothing

    Listening for sounds of footsteps while nursing a hangover. Crawling to the toilet, and puking not only last night’s alcohol, but stomach bile so shiny and yellow it blinds my tired eyes. Insides obliterated, and head on the verge of coming apart. Existence too much, I sit in the garden and look at the weeds.… Read more

  • Little Bethany

      The sky is blue, sometimes grey. Clouds and rain, passing in due course as sirens cut through the air disturbing my sleep. Closing my eyes, I try to get back to that warm place, but slowly it fades leaving me cold and alone. I was having a dream about Sarah at the time she… Read more

  • Fatalism

      Like Icarus being spat out by the sun, or the arrows of Saint Sebastian protruding from your swollen belly. To devour flesh and wine. To feel the pain of childbirth, and to taste the fear that keeps you in its grip as the midnight hour slowly ticks away. Past block after block of empty buildings,… Read more

  • White-Teethed-Fear

    Found a poem I wrote a few years ago, back when I wasn’t writing: They are celebrity Respectably Socially The epiphany of what we are They taste the sun It turns them on It makes them feel At one with God They think I’m waving Yet I’m drowning No substance here Just white-teethed-fear They think… Read more

  • They Know Nothing Of Love

      The lonely eyes of a girl who stands alone before the universe. The cracked bells of a church she wished to be married in, now tolling her death march instead. Blood-red gums. Blowjobs to prevent suicidal thoughts. Scars and train crashes and the stink of alcohol on her favourite dress. Everything hurts, and no… Read more

  • Our Ritual Act

    If my hands were to take you places. If these fingers crept along your thighs and circled the birthplace of wonder. If they pinched pinky flesh, there would be nothing left of the man you thought you once knew. In the back room, the place where dead flowers are strewn across make-shift beds. Drinking from… Read more

  • Monday December 17, 2007

    There’s a girl who works in a local supermarket who dances for me every time I go in. One hand lowers whilst the other rises. She has tinsel in her hair, and a rubber band around her pouting mouth. Fix me with pins. Put those hands around my bones, and eat me up. A girl… Read more

  • All I desire

    Life is tale of endless missed opportunities and lost love. It plagues my dreams, forever disturbing the thoughts I live for. It lets me down. People let me down. You have to become like them, that’s how it goes. Written in stone since birth, there’s no other option. Either you mirror everyone else, or you… Read more