Author S. K. Nicholas

x and i: a novel

a journal for damned lovers vol 1-3

Writing

  • Blinded By Perversion

    In heaven, his hands and feet will be reattached. In heaven, she will swallow an ocean of man’s dirty disease. Some homeless drunk picks up dead cigarettes from beside me whilst my eyes drift to nowhere in particular. Bodies a mass of self obsessed tumours. Your love isn’t love. It’s just a way of protecting… Read more

  • Phase (clair de lune)

    These bodies that stink of coastal towns. Anal beads and ghastly flesh. She slithers like the moon whilst keeping her torrid secrets at bay. Fluids for sale cheaper than bones. Ancient books more valued than life. Steam escapes from beneath the streets and dances with us as we move invisibly from bar to bar. Drunk… Read more

  • Peek Through the Pines

    Before my father begun his treatment for cancer, they removed all the teeth on his lower jaw. Sometimes when he speaks, I can hear the words having trouble leaving his mouth. He’s a good man. Sullen like myself, and comfortable in his own company. When he sits there watching television, I see him dabbing the… Read more

  • Beneath A Sighing Sky

      Dreams of words that were never said, of places lost forever as one by one they stopped believing. You try so hard to keep the magic alive, yet it fades as others become just another part of an ever growing machine. Fleeing in the heavy rain, we hide in alleys and parks, soaked to… Read more

  • My Sweetheart the Drunk

    The years get behind me, and yet the women don’t get any older. Attracted by youth. By the young blood that keeps me from turning to stone. Give yourself to another and become their victim. Open yourself up to attack, and fall foul of their blessed opinions. Expectations never fulfilled, you’re always going to let… Read more

  • Scattered Sequences

    The years come and go. Writing to save a lost soul, it fades then comes back again. Words not to pass the time, but to give time meaning. This isn’t just some hobby. Reflection not a curiosity, but a way of life. Others occupy themselves with their riddles of relationships and jobs. They give their… Read more

  • Lethargy

    Old buildings and stairwells to the coffee stains on your favourite books. Eyes wide as the road brings us faces and stories that change with every passing hour. Feelings in the pit of our stomachs, washed away to some other place with all those endless bottles of warm beer. The sky is always grey. No… Read more

  • Ares

    The place where we break ourselves. The bed on which we fuck until the sun’s swallowed by the hollow moon. London disease. Free way decapitation as I press my hands around your throat whilst gazing into wishful eyes. Solemn lovers. Melancholy sweethearts drunk on ideas and cheap wine. Books eaten instead of food. The dead… Read more

  • The Fall

      All avenues between our smoke filled mouths cast aside. Beer then whiskey as rain pisses down in the streets we walked as students. Clouds and trees and endless cars. Sadness a drug as you wrap your body in a tight city dress. Those legs in black stockings. Those breasts beneath the image of a… Read more

  • Ice Breaker

    The kid lies half in the gutter, half in the road. A blanket covers his kicked in face. A cigarette perched between my lip and finger, there’s only selfish thanks that it’s him and not me. Traffic clogs the dirty streets. An ambulance struggles to reach him like my desires battle against flesh. Blood and… Read more