Dreams
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Islands of dreams. Of naked desire. Strip it back, and taste a little truth. Don’t go into work tomorrow, spend the day in bed with me instead. Let the sun wake you up at midday. Then just lay there, looking up at the clouds as they pass on by high above and out of reach.… 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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My soul is strange. It’s tender and tired, like an old Welsh song. Yet it’s also so hateful, like a spurned lover left dangling in the wind. Like a discarded rag, caught on a branch of some broken tree. The scent of her room, still so fresh after all this time. Dust and memory.… Read more
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The evening rolls in. Warm, fresh. Fading blue skies. Work was busy, unfulfilling. The heat brings out women. Short skirts, cleavage on show. So many beautiful women. Sometimes, one will give me a smile. Occasionally, flirting occurs. I imagine what it would be like to fuck them. I see us both naked, going at it… Read more
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open your skull try to realise what it means when you’re alone and gasping for air those moments when love immerses you in its nature the desperate sense of longing that takes over yearning for the one you love’s embrace the one your dreams revolve around who sleeps deep inside your heart making a nest… Read more
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The people I went to school with are settled down now. Married, kids of their own, the lot. But here I am, single, poor, and clinging to fanciful dreams of being a writer. Age doesn’t mean a thing to me; I couldn’t care less that I’m nearly thirty. The… Read more
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her eyes pierce me they shatter my armour completely her gaze quickens my beating heart hands upon her body caressing, wanting hands pushing, pulling until we dance our dance she reduces me to a giddy fool pulling stars from the sky we explode merging, dissolving into something wonderous lovers, hiding from the world beneath… Read more
Author S. K. Nicholas 