The Good Girls Are Always Found

I have broken my own bones,
splintered them
and placed them into bags,
dozens of bags of me,
and I have thrown them
from the windows of speeding cars
in hope that you will find me
after the crash, somewhere
where the good girls would never go,
littered between back alleys
in the dark parts, the places where
the good girls are always found.

© Nicole Lyons 2017

Mixed With A Hint

It was my words
that spilled
from his lips,
my poetry
that poured
from his soul;
how was I to resist
my own passion,
mixed with a hint
of his own.

© Nicole Lyons 2017

Close To Inside

I want you here, almost inside,
but it was his words that reached
below my surface, those fucking words
that crawled inside of me,
and carved our names
into the walls of my secrets.
I’ve almost got you here, close to inside,
and when I close the door behind you,
it will be his darkest words that walk us home.

© Nicole Lyons 2017

Crackle and Hum

I will line them all up,
the many versions of me
you broke, and couldn’t,
and tried to break again,
and I will
whisper them stories,
tuck them in and talk of tall
tales of you and me and love,
and all manner of make believe.
They will know of the happy
endings that never came,
the ones still waiting
in the rain outside the lines,
behind police tape, and inside
dial tones too weak to do anything
other than crackle and hum.

© Nicole Lyons 2017

The Red Queen

For Shawna, may your scarlet crown always blind the fools; never forget who you are and what you deserve.

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The Red Queen

She has stood before the greatest men
and they have knelt within her fires.
She forged herself a scarlet crown
from each of their desires.
She never kept them kneeling,
always thanked them for their time.
She graced them with a sweet goodbye
and gifted them a smile.
Lesser men have tried to take her crown away,
using any trick they had to try and make her stay.
But once a queen has found her crown,
a King is who she seeks.
One of grit and strength and honour
because a Queen is what he needs.
So let this be a lesson to any fool who tries,
the crown atop the Red Queen’s head
is there until she dies.

© Nicole Lyons 2017

A Collection of Madness and Magic

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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 burns from the speed
at which I swallow the rants
and raves of transient thoughts,
and I am able to breathe again.
My blood boils with electricity,
ferocious enlightenment kicking
through the walls of a dead heart
and I am alive again.
A collection of madness and magic,
I am a place where art and illness collide.

© Nicole Lyons 2017

To Stitch A Soul

I am a lover of words
and tragically beautiful things,
poor timing and longing,
and all things with soul,
and I wonder if that means
I am entirely broken,
or if those are the things
that have been keeping me whole.

© Nicole Lyons 2017

Vintage Heart

For Tamara, with love.

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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 again.

© Nicole Lyons 2017

Ladders

They build ladders
from my spine
and they climb
and they fall
and they break me,
and then they climb
again.

© Nicole Lyons 2017