Author S. K. Nicholas

x and i: a novel

a journal for damned lovers vol 1-3

Journal

  • Heart & Soul

    Ashes and bones. Walking hands and throats. Killings on every corner. Dragged into the undergrowth and reduced to a mess of vaporised stars. West Virginia. Explosive tempers. Tricks to redeem. Pleasures in every way. Dead sex. Appealing though dismay. Scrap metal. Cumshot blowout. Nicotine fingers in howled mouths. Ageing clothes. Dig to find me. Scrape Read more

  • Seasons In Hell

    Shaven cats and junky perfume. Husk of yesterday. Remembered by none in a field of glorious failure. Safety in butterflies. Cocooned in devil mouth. Credentials of cocks. Peeled apples in seasoned dismay. Lacklustre and lukewarm. Academy for perverts. Twisted like a handful of hair. Pull it back and watch her groan. The witness to my Read more

  • Hellacious praisers, redeemed by the fallen one. Scorched by sinking suns, loved by one and all. A tapestry of flies buzz around empty mouths. From crumbling ruins to the shores of heavenly bodies, they foretell the coming of vengeful souls. From the hanging gardens where we were born, the scent of honey carries with voices Read more

  • The Bridge

    The flesh contains. It restrains us from becoming something more. Like the stars in the sky, we are infinite without even trying. Bones as prisons. The key to our demise. Shackled to self-doubt, the only thing that matters is to keep childhood madness alive. The adult world a deadened mess of machinery. Too many cogs. Read more

  • March Of The Flies

    Half truths and inner guts. Unassuming emptiness. The consequence of fantasy. The banality of evil. We thrill at will. We lay down the rules and watch them disappear with ease. No boundaries only frenzy. Changing faces. Masks. All surface no feeling. Suicide helpline. The soil of my mind. No other way to resolve these problems. 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

  • Clair de Lune

    Speech therapy for lizards. The cold bloodied made warm using symbols of lethargy and sex. Open wide to catch a lullaby or two. Torn pages scattered down the road. Faded ink of words stained with the meaning of love. The look of want. The need to be in someone’s arms. Blown apart like landmines we Read more

  • This is not a concept. This frequency is non-operational. Besieged by storms and wild tigers. Defunct machinery, growling as your hands search for the key in the ignition. If we try, we can eat them alive. Wires around your wrists. Rope attached to the back of your car. Drag the lake and find what remains Read more

  • Step Into The Sun

    Larks tongue in silhouette. Smouldering looks as the moon hangs high above. Tip toe through willow trees. Man as monster. As imposter. In the valley of dolls the weak will cling with empty devotion. They’ll melt in the face of infinity. She sings in cycles of seven. She sleeps with clouds so soft and unspoken. Read more

  • Metal

    imprisoned by sexless desire purgatory circles/repeated to infinity shadows/machines/metal picking little engineers/always digging deeper chewing wires and tails/we long for release for some kind of escape in a darkened globe of terror/she shines like the sun as sweet as water/as warm as the sands of a secret shore the road is long/mistakes and regrets at Read more