Let Old Bones Lie

I never could tell if it was my body or my mind he ached to strip. He had a weakness for pretty disasters and ugly tragedies. The cut of his tongue sliced through both. Colors exploded into me, violent shades of him, striking my soul. Hush your quaking heart, we have many things to see. … Continue reading Let Old Bones Lie

She is a Storm

Gently now, wild one. This world can only handle so many storms, and you have struck this one with your lightning and painted the walls of it with your thunder. Gently now, wild one. Let them catch their breath. © Nicole Lyons 2017

I Won’t Always Be Me

I won’t always walk gently. Sometimes I will stomp, and I will rage, and my footsteps will shake the mountains of love you have heaped upon my earth. I won’t always speak kindly. Sometimes I will spit, and I will scream, and the venom from my tongue will poison the oceans of love you have … Continue reading I Won’t Always Be Me

Bring Your Wishes

It is empty in here. This place that once felt the fire of falling stars is now cold in his fading light. So I shall invite you in and ask you to bring your wishes, and perhaps the both of us will burst like suns again.   © Nicole Lyons 2017

In Collapse

Still, I wonder, here in collapse, if I should pick the jagged stones of humility out of my knees, or let them settle in, pushing rough edges into my vulnerability. And if I did, would you see me as divine? © Nicole Lyons 2017

Syllable by Syllable

And sometimes these words, they save me, but sometimes, most times, they kill me, syllable by fucking syllable, they rip me to shreds. © Nicole Lyons 2017

A Collection of Madness and Magic

My mind is light and dark and always uneven, a rest stop for a long line of weary travellers and mischief makers; a home to thousands of manic spiders spinning sticky webs of dark delusions against the back of my eyes. My ears itch with the whispers of hyper charged bits of paranoia. My throat … Continue reading A Collection of Madness and Magic

Vintage Heart

For Tamara, with love. She's an old soul with young eyes, a vintage heart, and a beautiful mind. © Nicole Lyons 2017

Yes, I Remember You

Yes, I remember you. I remember the hitch and the gasp before my veins opened up into fields upon fields upon barren wastelands. I remember how thunder felt that night when a thousand wild stallions carried my pulse around the mountains of my bones and placed it where I hoped I would never remember you … Continue reading Yes, I Remember You

Someone Else’s War

  I have been caught in the palm of crooked hands, slid myself along promises down pinky fingers and into the throats of corrupt bedfellows. My mouth tastes of shame but my eyes glisten with the spoils of someone else’s war. © Nicole Lyons 2017