I Would Run

I feel what you feel,
and I know
what you know,
and in another time
or another place,
on every other plane
of existence, I would run
anywhere with you.

Help Stephanie Bennett-Henry Recover

Our beautiful friend and writer Stephanie Bennett Henry desperately needs our help. She and her husband had just finished a full renovation of her childhood home and were preparing to move into it over the next coming weeks when Hurricane Harvey hit Texas. She was in the flood zone. Her house consumed by water. The clean up will be long and heartbreaking and without flood insurance or help from FEMA the financial burden to redo all they’d worked so hard on is a mountainous amount.

A fund has been set up by a group of her friends and fellow writers to help her family as best we can. We ask you to please donate what you can. Every little bit helps.

Stephanie’s words have helped heal thousands, now she needs healing. The campaign was started this morning. The link is here, please offer what you can and please share this post to help spread the word. Thank you all.

And here is the link to Stephanie’s FB page where you can offer some words of support as well.

Much love and light to each and every one of you.

For the month of September, I will be donating my royalties from every Amazon purchase of Hush to the relief efforts and the rebuild of Stephanie’s home.

You can purchase your copy of Hush, here.




Hard Love

It is a difficult thing,
the knowing and the not,
and the weight of carrying it all.
That we are not of this world
and never have been, but perhaps
we have been placed here
as punishment for living too full
and loving too hard against the softness
of whatever we are made up of.
Maybe it was that hard love
that we made so easy
that brought us here,
to learn to love like them,
with strings attached and angry ultimatums.
But here we are now,
still loving like we did then,
and feeling the fall of it all.
Perhaps we were wrong in the ways
they are right because we were eternal once,
and now these blessed hearts
have been broken and filled and broken again,
and I am afraid that this heart,
that your heart has loved too hard
to ever make it back home again.

© Nicole Lyons 2017

No Trespassing

He pitched himself onto me,
inside of me; somehow
his smooth laugh
and the electric blue
of his necktie cut a path
through the underbrush
beneath my skirt,
and I liked the way
his jacket caught the breeze
when he hung it
on your no trespassing sign,
and how he sighed so deeply
when the blues in his pocket
gave way to his shadow,
and wiped me clean again.

© Nicole Lyons 2017

Cast That Messy Shine


I like dirty hearts
and restless minds,
the old souls that
have known hard lives;
the ones who cast
the most beautiful shine.

© Nicole Lyons 2017

Spirit Walk


The road is long, it’s veiled in mist,
the stars are cloaked tonight.
The pins in my feet
spun the needle in my compass,
now I have lost my way.
I walk alone with eyes wide shut,
stumbling over things unseen.
The plains are hills, the hills are plains
and nothing is what it seems.
Into the forest, among the trees
where cities used to be,
the wild women come to show me the way,
mauling grizzlies that eat my dreams.
Now with eyes wide open
I walk with my sisters
stumbling over what used to be me.

© Nicole Lyons 2016

I am Nothing – S.L. Heaton

“Is this your better half?”

“No, not really.”

In a moment I was reduced to nothing. I turned my face so you couldn’t see the torment because I’ve never been good at hiding my feelings. The sting of nothingness was strong because I always thought I was at least something to you.

You were my life, my breath, my best friend, and I hoped beyond measure that somehow we could make it work, against all odds and the cruelty of timing.

You kissed me goodbye in a way that you haven’t for sometime with the sting of rejection burning my lips. I felt a familiar lump form in my throat and I had to push you away.


I could not bare to let you see I was dying inside and I wasn’t about to break down in front of you. I was choking on I love you, please stay, and every other word I could not say.

Now I sit in a house laden with memories, trying to find peace in the quiet but this silence is unnerving and I find myself wondering why I think it would be better to be your nothing than to be here alone.


Shawna Heaton, aka Priss, is just a girl with some words. Words that spent entirely too long locked up inside. She’s a mom…grandma…aspiring writer…gym junkie…and all around smart ass. She’s on a journey…she doesn’t know where to but she intends to enjoy the ride.

Follow her extraordinary journey at S.L. Heaton

Nothing Will Change The World

For Fiona, and every other guardian of nothing.

Nothing Will Change The World

You told us to stop writing
and start doing
because our words mean nothing,
our voices mean nothing,
and nothing we say
will change the world.
Nothing will convince the sun
that she should set
on golden shoulders and rise
falling over battlefields
exploding with something.
Oh, but darling you don’t
understand how nothing
has burrowed deep into our lungs,
sprouted and crawled sideways
up the length of our necks,
kicking its heels
into the back of our throats,
to dance upon a gagging silence.
Nothing was sown into the walls
of our mouths,
planted beneath our tongues
long before you ever
decided to be so wrong.
We are filled to bursting
with nothing, and nothing bursting
is a dangerous thing indeed.
Nothing has incited riots,
violent quaking change
erupting on the heels
of so much nothing.
With little more than nothing
the blind can see,
the world can taste red,
and we can make you weep
for your very soul.
We are the guardians of nothing
and nothing we shall unleash
onto you.

© Nicole Lyons 2017

Collecting Nothing

I waste time
wishing I could go
back and collect
wasted moments spent
waiting for something
that never came,
or ended too fast,
or just wasn’t enough.
And the absurdity of it all,
wasting time over
wasted time, collecting nothing
upon nothing to fill a hole
where nothing lives, is the only way
to assure that nothing
will leave me
empty again.

© Nicole Lyons 2016



For a very special sister of my soul.


There she goes,
with her restless heart
and cool eyes,
crossing stars
and pulling the moon
down again

© Nicole Lyons 2017