Writing
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Not sleeping, nor masturbating. No sex, and no drinking. These are the things I enjoy most. To not do them, makes me very dull. So instead, I run myself a bath and wait for the impending heat to warm my aching bones. Maybe I’ll read some Bukowski, or perhaps listen to a little music. Or… Read more
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Between the layers of my mind, thoughts shift without time. They come and go as they please, never daring to introduce themselves. They come dressed in sheep’s clothing, puckered up like whores kissing the shattered asphalt. Sometimes, they grip me and won’t let go. They seize me and shake my bones. Always ready and willing,… Read more
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stillness gone waking shattered head all broken and dismal with the taste of shame flowing through my veins turning on my side she sleeps like a child lost to the world and still part of last nights allure stumbling to the bathroom and pissing like niagara falls such a familiar feeling and knowing pain that… Read more
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Her tired painted face, aching with sexual prowess and sleaze. Some kind of wonder, leaving you choking on her remedy. It’s nauseating, and liberating. It makes you feel alive to know how many she’s slept with. To imagine how many hands and tongues have taken her to some higher plane. Obliterated all that she is… Read more
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clenched fists and stale cigarette smoke the kind that clings to your clothes making you out to be some kind of romantic soul you’ve got all the words and act the part with ease but something in your head keeps you from succeeding it’s the fear of stepping outside of becoming something different driving you… Read more
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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
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it’s not the beauty of her flesh that’s pulls you in or the shape of her breasts and the curve of her hips although to see her nude upon the bed turns you on and makes you hard something stupid but rather it’s the madness behind her eyes and the way she’s so fucking crazy… Read more
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despite what they say there’s something so satisfying about being a bum smoking, drinking eying up women enjoying early morning shits and breathing in the stench that makes you feel like such a real man jacking off to cheap porn to the sight of dirty girls who’ll do anything, who’ll never say no and then… Read more
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breathing heavy chest rising in my arms sleepless, dreamless she melts against me her hips taking all I’ve got to give hiding her face sighing, biting gasping into my chest ‘how does it make you feel’ I ask as I show her what I’m made of and I’m made of stars raging, dazzling burning her… Read more
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As the rain falls outside, there are no mountains left to find. There were none to begin with, though. They were just illusions like everything else. Illusions of a sick mind, abstractions that my ill body refused to give up on. There have never been any mountains, beneath the sea or above it. I fabricated… Read more
Author S. K. Nicholas 