Author S. K. Nicholas

x and i: a novel

a journal for damned lovers vol 1-3

Writing

  • Eskimo Kisses

    the days are lost to me sinking suns and eskimo kisses hushed like the smothered cries of a lover timeless time smeared across my aching heart always with regret  oh these shameful hands of mine caressing shadows that are hopelessly tinged with longing Read more

  • This Sullen Welsh Heart

      My soul is strange. It’s tender and tired, like an old Welsh song. Yet it’s also so hateful, like a spurned lover left dangling in the wind. Like a discarded rag, caught on a branch of some broken tree. The scent of her room, still so fresh after all this time. Dust and memory.… Read more

  • Sunny Afternoon

    In the English countryside, I’m surrounded by fields of corn and the history of ages.  On lazy Sunday afternoons, all you can do is smile. Despite everything that might be wrong, just go for a walk and let it all go, if only for a few hours.  Away from everyone, I’m at one with myself.… 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

  • Heat

    Have a beer, a smoke too. Take a piss, and feel like a king. Remember the way she used to give herself to you. No shame, only physicality. Hips of a goddess, and breasts that mirrored the shape of my hands just right. Waking up next to her in the morning, I’d always slip one… Read more

  • Love’s Embrace

    open your skull try to realise what it means when you’re alone and gasping for air those moments when love immerses you in its nature the desperate sense of longing that takes over yearning for the one you love’s embrace the one your dreams revolve around who sleeps deep inside your heart making a nest… Read more

  • Portal

    the days remain the same a killer on the run killing lovers for fun familiar sister troubled brother always falling apart coming undone she should be an exit but it’s just so damn easy to lose touch when flesh and sex pulse on every street corner in this darkened city Read more

  • The Dunstable Dead

      in an english field a ring of stones surrounds two young bodies blue skies, crows fly low to the burnt ground fires burning on horizons dangerous trees sigh, nature cries an endless scream as she bites his chest fingers digging, lips twitching white teeth sharp drawing blood upon the steps that rise watchful eyes,… Read more

  • This Is Glory

    happiness is boredom and sex sex and boredom day after day, hour after hour summers, endless summers boiling lobsters and bottled beer cigarettes, smoked gazing out of windows overlooking suburban hell nothing to do, life is great this is glory sheer fucking glory Read more

  • Thoughts on Turning 30

                The people I went to school with are settled down now. Married, kids of their own, the lot. But here I am, single, poor, and clinging to fanciful dreams of being a writer. Age doesn’t mean a thing to me; I couldn’t care less that I’m nearly thirty. The… Read more