Author S. K. Nicholas

x and i: a novel

a journal for damned lovers vol 1-3

Drinking

  • This Is An Exit

      Nailing my hands to the cross, my mouth is turned upside down. The way the candle burns as she yearns for my touch; for the way my fingers explore her neurosis. Shoveling ashes, my days are spent hunting witches. They eat children. They float and suck on tender flesh. Oh, but these witches are Read more

  • Beat

      Burning wheels along the highway. Drunken sandstorms and tears in the fabric of space-time. Roses growing in fields of corn. Chalk beneath my feet, and the skulls of dead lovers churning in my belly. Beat, always beating as women devour what remains of my flesh. So hot- always drenched in sweat as they reduce me Read more

  • Wednesday July 30, 2008

    Mating rituals on concrete. Certain people facing certain means of extinction. Snap their necks, and cut off their hair. Rip off their balls, and stamp on them until they bleed and bleed. Then, take their women, and show them what it means to be a man. Open up your skin by pushing in those fingers, Read more

  • Hidden Depths

    Daylight leaks through the window. Bottles of empty promises at the foot of a cold bed. Cigarettes stubbed out on books, and the stench of stale air blanketing pale skin. Time out of hand, the morning drowns all hope. Nausea and regret on her trembling lips, she’s just a girl of little consequence. Painted fingernails Read more

  • Still

      These days of struggle. These hours of intent. In my room, I write. There are no amazing accolades. There is no money. My novel still a work in progress. So many years have I taken to arrive at this point, and still I’m only at the beginning. Doubt plagues me every day. I’m not Read more

  • Hangovers and Underbellies

      They breed us in factories and office spaces. They tell us what to enjoy- what a life is meant to resemble. All those walking disasters in love with the opulence of their existence. Drown them before it’s too late. Put them out of their misery before I choke on the fumes of their indignity. Read more

  • Deadlight City

      The old man thinks he’s got cancer. Years of drink and cigarettes have taken their toll. He puts a brave face on, but I can tell by the look in his eyes that he’s scared shitless. He’s wasted too many days. A failed marriage of thirty years haunting his every step, all he can Read more

  • Dead Lovers And Aspirin

    My condition is worsened by a lack of touch and aggravated by excess sound. Everything should be minimal. Colours mute. Objects smooth. My seed is resolute. It trickles and sinks. It blows and hits just where it should. It flows through the air at the speed of dreams. Such a violent fluid. Such a tricky Read more

  • Sometimes I Make You Sad

    Sometimes, all a man has is the ability to make a woman sad. There’s something in seeing the tears roll down her face that makes us feel some sense of worth. Maybe it’s control, or we’re just impotent in love and compassion. Monsters, aren’t we all. So dumb and numb, we attack beauty in an attempt Read more

  • Wish Me In You

      Let me take off your clothes. Let me strip you clean, of all those useless barriers. Let me see you for what you really are. To demean is out of the question, I just wanna taste beauty. To slip inside of you, and feel some sense of worth. To belong. Nude truth, beneath the Read more