Author S. K. Nicholas

x and i: a novel

a journal for damned lovers vol 1-3

Journal

  • Self Portrait on Train

    English wanker on a train Wordless vigilante no longer  (most of the time)  Read more

  • Human and Useless

    All those greedy bellies. All those juicy bodies just begging to be eaten. Forbidden fruits hanging from tainted trees. Indulge me in something extreme. Shower my eyes with kisses that taunt like a jilted lover. Emotions stubbed out like cigarettes. There’s nothing worse than panda eyes in the pouring rain. There’s nothing more cruel than Read more

  • The Faithful Departed

      An obsession with the past. So much so that the present slips through your fingers. It’s in the romance of the fall. The struggle of dancing with distant stars and breathing in the intoxicating scent of every atom that burns with delirious passion. The descent is what makes us crave life. The hand of Read more

  • I Will

    will you keep out the sadness  (the days will always be warm)  will you wrap me in imagination  (they’ll be no beginning or end)  will you take me away from harm  (I’ll be you superhero)  will you save me from myself  (only if you save me first)  Read more

  • The Lights of Our Minds

    A car alarm in the dead of night. Sleepless and wide awake. The town shimmers far below, it looks so beautiful from such great heights. The animals circle us as we dance. The birds in the sky swooping down to give us their flight. Old people with their grocery lists. With trembling bottom lips, they Read more

  • Days of Despair

    between days of faith and despair the clock counts down the hours until my next descent on the edge of the bed the world falls apart it grows cold as my body crumbles beneath worn sheets there’s only ghosts to keep me company now as yesterday haunts and tomorrow taunts there’s only suffering as the Read more

  • The Ties That Bind

      You can’t change the world, just the same as you can’t change time. These feelings come and go. From despair to wonder in the blink of a lazy eye. Sullen like an only child in the midst of the witching hour. As lonesome as a shadow on the wall. When the rain falls outside, Read more

  • The Steam

    Incense. Elicited through emotion, these ghosts play tricks on the mind. They move in and out with ease. Steady like the ebb and flow of a tide. Passing always like the clouds above our heads. Pale dots that move like ink across our eyes. They disguise the orderless truth of wasted days. Trees creep down and Read more

  • Sinners Salt

    Havana. Wisconsin. Trespass my soul for a new way to find the secrets we long to see. Native American fears. Boundless skies stretching blue for as far as the eye can see. Oceans in a bellybutton. Trees hold memories. They sing to us as we walk so lonesome to pass the time of day. A Read more

  • The Centre of the Universe

    These rooms. They attract too many shadows. Balloons tied to my feet. Crayons drawn on my pale face to make me more colourful. Horses sinking on the horizon. Cigarettes staining what was once fresh linen. Stray dogs and energy drinks at every turn. Paychecks for virtual blowjobs. Writing not as something spiritual, but as something Read more