Remember This

I will unwrap all of me
and lay myself naked
at your door,
but remember this:
I will bite back.
With every promise
you have broken
and every lie
you have told,
I will bite back.
But if you would meet me,
naked and aching,
I would give back every promise
I have broken
and swallow every lie
I have told.
I would give back,
everything I have sworn
and the little I have left,
to the one brave enough
to bare their filthy soul
next to mine.

© 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 brought to my shores.
I won’t always live passionately.
Sometimes I will hide, and I will cry,
and the blackness from my soul will darken
the gardens of love
you have planted at my door.
I won’t always be me.
Sometimes I will be the very thing
I have been fighting against,
and it will swallow me, and it will laugh,
and I will climb out of the depths of it all
to meet you gently, and kindly,
and passionately again.

© Nicole Lyons 2017

 

 

Picture Source: Pinterest

It Never Heard That

I don’t want to remember exactly how I was or who I was before you,
and I know that isn’t what this world wants to hear,
but it never listened to the beat of my broken heart
or caught the pain in my eyes anyway.
It never heard the way I hated myself when dawn hit my window
and sliced its way through the mountains of maybe next time
I won’t hurt myself, but for now just cut these colours
easy enough to taste something less bitter than I am.
It never heard that. It never listened to the way I could gulp and howl
under the light of a full moon, a new moon, of any moon,
of a sick and sculpted summer moon that hung above the grime
I pretended not to notice. It never heard that. It never listened
to my voice calling out from the dark when every last light in me
had been dimmed, it never came to chase the shadows or the monsters
that waited to lunge the second the lights went out.
It was never there to shine hope into my darkened heart or hear the cries
of my soiled soul. It never heard that. I never knew that silence
with you whispered the most extraordinary tales, and sitting
in the way of sunsets with you shifted the ugly inside of me,
and burst beautiful rays into the dark of my eyes.
I don’t want to remember who I was when I was without you,
but I do, and I will, and perhaps remembering how cold it was in the dark
will never let me forget how I can hear the warmth in the light.

© Nicole Lyons 2017

A Nicole Lyons Book Giveaway

I’m having a Goodreads Giveaway

Goodreads Book Giveaway

I Am A World Of Uncertainties Disguised As A Girl by Nicole  Lyons

I Am A World Of Uncertainties Disguised As A Girl

by Nicole Lyons

Giveaway ends December 11, 2017.

See the giveaway details
at Goodreads.

Enter Giveaway

 

Reader’s Favorite Book Reviews – I Am A World of Uncertainties Disguised As A Girl

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Reviewed by Rosie Malezer for Readers’ Favorite

I Am A World Of Uncertainties Disguised As A Girl is an incredible embodiment of emotion, expressed through prose and poetry, and written by Nicole Lyons. The shuddering impact each verse creates in the soul of the reader is profound, dealing in various embattled reactions to situations in life and its complexities. Whether the subject be conveying one’s faith, promiscuity, temptations in life or broken hearts, each verse shakes you emotionally, as it reaches inside and tinkers with the many different experiences and aspects of a person’s existence.

Never before have I read poetry on such a large scale of extreme raw emotion. I was able to feel and relate to the pain of Nicole Lyons as she expressed so many variances in her life, up to the point of waiting for the impact of death to take place. The violations of a human body and soul were also felt, bringing back some very painful moments in my own life, all of which were expressed so fully in the pages of I Am A World Of Uncertainties Disguised As A Girl. Whether Nicole draws each verse from experience or imagination, the talent which shines through each page is intense, almost to the point of it blinding the reader in a lyrical depiction of pain, heartache, disaster and emotional invasion.

Two poems snagged my interest in particular: Turning Goodbye came across as a final message left on a tombstone or epitaph, whereas Impetus draws upon the raw emotion of a tidal pull. I wholeheartedly recommend I Am A World Of Uncertainties Disguised As A Girl to lovers of poetry over the age of 15 years, and look forward to adding it to my bookshelf at home, filled only with incredible works in literature.

5star-flat-web

Reviewed by Sarah Stuart for Readers’ Favorite

I Am A World Of Uncertainties Disguised As A Girl is a compilation of over a hundred freestyle poems that express feelings we can all recognise to some degree. Nicole Lyons’ writing is nothing less than poetic art that delves deep into the psyche of a girl swinging from the extremes of passionate sexual love to the suicidal thoughts of a lover rejected. Nicole Lyons is a woman of few words; despite the length of this collection and the complexity of the subject matter, few poems are long, but those that are shine out with an undeniable brilliance. Does the “she” featured throughout survive, or are these words, which comprise The Draw, her epitaph engraved in stone? “Some souls were never meant to be content.”

Readers will discern the cleverness of Freight Train, a dip into a suicidal mind, the analogy to a boat aground in Bursting Pure and Blooming, and the rightness of the title Three Sheets to Forever. Personally, I loved I Have Surrendered on this Night, the suspension of worries in dreams, and Yes, I Remembered You, unforgettable for this beautiful line: “a thousand wild stallions carried my pulse around the mountains of my bones”. My favourite of the short poems scattered throughout was Little Black Dress; fourteen words sum up all the doubt and longing to impress that ubiquitous garment implies. Nicole Lyons’ I Am A World Of Uncertainties Disguised As A Girl demands a place in the heart, and bookcase, of poetry lovers all over the world.

5star-flat-web

Reviewed by Joel R. Dennstedt for Readers’ Favorite

Although, considering the perspective of her work, Nicole Lyons might smirk cynically at being called a major gifted talent, her collection of poetry, I Am A World Of Uncertainties Disguised As A Girl places her as such with no trace of uncertainty or equivocation. There is no doubt she earns such poetic respect for her peerless ability to communicate, clearly and precisely, the deepest sufferings of life, but also leaves no doubt she has endured them first. No one could talk like this purely by imagination.

I have been covered
in easy kisses
from uneasy lips
and I know I
smell weary again.
***
My life can be boiled down
to nothing more than
a series of tracks hauling
freight trains filled with intensity,
and me, the ultimate train wreck,
just itching to play chicken.

In every poem included in I Am A World Of Uncertainties Disguised As A Girl, Nicole Lyons creates a beautiful continuity of rhythm, sound, meaning, and intensity. In turn, while accessible poetry is a true rarity, either sacrificing depth for shared understandings, or worse, using false obscurities to imply such depth, Lyons retains an almost suffocating emotional consciousness without sacrificing the familiar. And, perhaps most courageous for a poet seeking serious validation, she unerringly applies a ruthless conciseness to her creations that is apt to be mistaken for simplicity. Her poems are not simple. They are simply devastating.

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

To purchase your copy of my new release, I Am a World of Uncertainties Disguised As a Girl, click HERE

To read the full reviews click HERE

 

A Cosmic Disappointment

I drink

and I scream

and I curse the stars,

and still you are here,

blaring in my fucking veins.

Nicole Lyons 2017

Most Days

I don’t know if I will ever

know the truth of us,

and what could have been,

what should have been,

what will never be.

But I do know I loved you

and I think you may

have loved me too,

and most days

that is enough.

Nicole Lyons 2017

The Keeper of Time

I swear to God, I am not proud of it,
this wishing and unwishing,
and the wishing and unwishing of more,
as if that could make these things be something
or nothing, or take them all away,
or even add a maybe to them all.
This wishing and unwishing are killing me.

If I could go back and take it all back,
or change it all I would,
God help me, I would.
There are so many things I would change
and so many things I couldn’t,
and wouldn’t, and would never want to,
but if I started to change one thing,
I would never stop.

I would wish to be the keeper of time
to whisper my secrets to you,
and we would sit beyond time and I would tell you

You can change this. I have kept your time.
I have kept your seconds.
I have kept your wishes and your memories
and your love here, in this notebook,
and I give it back to you now
with an eraser and a pencil.
And I would look there, on your notebook,
on its dog-eared edges and its faded cover,
and I would wish for brighter colours and
I would say to you,

Here is the notebook of your life,
the notebook of your time,
and I am giving it back to you.
I am giving you this one pass,
as the keeper of your time
and the keeper of your sins,
I give them back to you.

I give you back your dreams,
rewrite them.

Write it all, and don’t write it
as if you were afraid

of what people would think.

Don’t write it as if
you haven’t been given a second chance
upon a first chance,

because you haven’t.
But still, write it.


I, as the keeper of your time,

and the chronicler of your memories,
give you this page and this pencil,
and I ask you to write without fear,
without consequence,
without hope or sorrow,
I ask you to write, so write.

I can not reset time,
I can not make things right
as you see them be,
because your right is wrong
in everyone else’s eyes,
in cosmic eyes that stare down at us all.

Don’t read the rewrite,
and I will keep you secretly,
and give you this page and this pencil to write
all of the things you wanted to write,
all of the things you wanted to keep,
all of the things you wanted to change,
all of the things that are time and are not,
and will not or never be,
and I ask you to write it solidly,
without despair, without guilt, without question.

Write your rewrite that I can never grant you,
and sign your name to the bottom of it, proudly.
For there is nothing wrong with a rewrite,
in this life or in others, there is nothing wrong
with wanting a rewrite, even if we love
our stories and the way they began
with a once upon a time and ended
with a happily ever after,
because you are many stories.
You are a great book of love, and loss, and light,
and the wisdom of your pages, between your pages
could never be rewritten into the stories that are.

© Nicole Lyons 2017

Under Your Bed

I have loved as I have never been loved,
and in loving as I have never been,
I have held the hands of gods
and laid weeping before the closed fists
of disappointment dripping with my own blood
and barely skimming forgiveness.
Perhaps it will come to me,
this love, a love, beneath your bed,
behind the curtains or under you mother
and her Sunday night dinner,
the one I was invited to
before the devil tickled my back
and your angels scorched my belly.
I wear these marks well,
my kisses from heaven
and my brushes with hell,
yet here I am on my knees again,
looking for the love you dropped under your bed.
I know it’s here somewhere,
amongst the monsters and the memories,
making friends with the lonely socks
missing their mates, and reaching
inside the crumpled wrappers,
the pink ones that burst the stars
upon your tongue before he broke the door down
and taught you all the ways you should never love.

© Nicole Lyons 2017

Once Upon A Time

I am standing here, screaming,
“I live, I live. I love.”
and they are laughing as you dig in
to this pile of bullshit,
shovels full of our own wasted lives.
Oh, if we all could live,
right and good like stories
filled with mighty conquests
and happier endings.
My feet are covered in this waste,
wishes treading the water
that has been pissed out of finer souls
than we could ever hope to be.
We should hope less and dig more,
there are treasures to be found
beneath the pile of golden souls
who would think well enough
to shit outside the gates of their own
once upon a time.

© Nicole Lyons 2017