Author S. K. Nicholas

x and i: a novel

a journal for damned lovers vol 1-3

Drinking

  • Journal For Lovers

    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

  • Saturday

    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

  • Words From The Past

      i’m lost inside my head too many yesterdays too many voices belonging to the dead they follow and they haunt mock, taunt all wide eyed dreamy leaving me gasping for more stuck in a stasis a false reality in moments of time rainy nights, a drunken haze the ghost of a girl who used Read more

  • Pinky Flesh

    Pinky doors of flesh, flowering in fields of corn. Drinking my beer with the last slithers of light leaving the night sky, I feel myself drifting to sleep. Music calling me away, the scent of burning candles mask the scent of cigarette smoke. It’s humid, balmy. Clouds cover stars, spiders scuttle in the corners of Read more

  • All Surface No Feeling

    open the bottle and taste a little sweetness to go against the shame it’s raining, maybe snowing and i’m howling to the moon my veins are pumping, balls throbbing and there’s just no way of knowing what i’m really like but the taste of it is enough to make me numb the way i stick Read more

  • The Love Of My Tired Heart

    All the lovers, desperately wanting to cling. Give in to lust, to the cheaply things that make us feel so good. Only human, only animal. All days spent bound to the chains of nature. Let it reduce, and let it seduce, you, into thinking it’s some kind of beauty. The pleasures of flesh, of being Read more

  • Elusive Like Ghosts

    On a friday night like this, there’s nothing you can think of doing. You could be anywhere in the world, sleeping with the most beautiful women imaginable. You could be in America, or maybe Venice. Smoking cigarettes and drinking champagne as the gondolas pass by your side. The bars alive with romantic souls, the air Read more

  • Boiled Like A Cheap Lobster

    drinking beer and sweating like a fucker cause my fan wont work i’m naked and i can’t open the window cause all the spiders will get in and crawl over my face so i write and drink as the evening disappears blissfully unaware of the horrors outside that destroy beauty and innocence like it’s something Read more

  • Joy

    downing a beer after tasting another slice of death results in a quickened heart and a shortness of breath as the sun shines through the elms across the road into my room making me smile with a sense of joy i shouldn’t be proud of yet it’s just so hard to resist at times and Read more

  • Lonely Ghosts and Swaying Trees

    stood in a darkened room and smoking a cigarette whilst gazing out the window my mind’s a blank and there’s nothing i’d rather be doing and there’s no one I want to be talking too it’s just me and the silence of a friday night as the world turns on like it always does and Read more