Insight-S.K. Nicholas/A Journal for Damned Lovers

S. K. Nicholas


In a stairwell littered with rubbish and stinking of piss, I look up at a man who isn’t there. In a parking lot outside a block of low-rise apartments, I’m stood smoking while thinking back to how things used to be. As the ground sways beneath my feet, the scent of your body carries in the breeze and says hello just the same as it did all those years ago. I would watch you as you slept, y’know. Would stand at the foot of the bed wishing so much to get inside your head. To lose myself in you and never return, but instead, I lost myself elsewhere. In the bottle. In the arms of depression. In the corner of a room without walls. A pinch of all three. To think of you makes my palms all sweaty. You who makes me angry and serene in the same breath. You…

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