Author S. K. Nicholas

x and i: a novel

a journal for damned lovers vol 1-3

Dreams

  • Things That Aren’t There

      Generation dead = Netflix and chill. Deformed and malnourished. Mutilated like a police officer being dragged along frenzied Venezuelan streets. As the knife goes in, it’s reminiscent of how I used to take you; no mercy, no care, and now I’m trying hard to find a remedy in your faltering image. Stripped naked as the crowd… Read more

  • Isolation

      She snorts coke from the shaft of your cock. You’re worried it’ll go limp, so you think of taking her sister from behind, and everything stays the same. She cuts her wrists but gets bored yeah it’s so boring. Flashing lights and suicide. Daddy abuse and the sensation of drowning as you suck on… Read more

  • Human Stains

      I fantasise about having you, but you’ll never be mine. Maybe if I tried, but what’s the point in trying; these things come naturally or not at all. Lay next to me. Don’t say a word, just hold my hand and let us breathe in synch with the sound of a broken clock. The… Read more

  • Lonely Moonchild

      Bottled up feelings kept out of sight and hidden from view. They weigh you down, pulling you beneath the surface. Too many relics, too much junk. Always silent, never releasing. Never speaking the fears that choke you when you’re alone. Lost in the woods, in a maze of trees and broken dreams. Depression, anxiety.… Read more

  • Love

      It’ll take us in the end, and no amount of pretending will ever change it. We lose ourselves in fleeting moments, in distractions, and yet permanence is all we will ever know. In a thousand years, all traces of our existence will have turned to dust. All our passions and desires, gone. Every memory… Read more

  • Soft Machines

      I’m moving wheels. The days fly by. Images blur. Words, nothing but words. And beer. There should be women, but I need to focus. I’ve taken control. An attack on the senses, a visceral gob in the face to all those who accept banality. The visions I’ve created must be nailed to pages. They… Read more

  • Hyena

      Scenes of a heavenly nature. Noire scorched by starlight as she widens to the sound of a hundred screaming hyenas. Stairwells soaked with blood. Footprints from my heart to hers. Soaked with sweat and clothes ripped to shreds, the circles grow bigger with every pill. Write some words of permanence, and then throw them… Read more

  • Don’t Let The Days Escape

    I’m looking out the window feeling the hand of death upon my shoulder, and it wants me to see how thin the line is between life and unbecoming. Gripped by an acute sense of fear, there’s nothing I can do. Paralysed by the visions that play out before my eyes, the endless darkness, it’s right… Read more

  • Exercise One

      Lifetimes spent working, bleeding. Vessels half submerged. Ex-lovers. Spirits in their touch and fingernails creeping unknown even to them. Open your mouth and let me do things I can’t comprehend. Let me take you down. Searchlights as you undress on the balcony. Distant music as the animals are doused in petrol and set alight.… Read more

  • Eternal

      I wish I were in it for the money, but all I care about is the soul. Impossible dreams regarding lost love; childhood fantasies the stuff of which the adult world does its best to extinguish. Find me drunk and in love beneath bedsheets on restless Sunday afternoons. It’s not the thing to do… Read more