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

Hush is now available worldwide

Hush is now available worldwide through Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Booktopia, and The Book Depository. You can also contact most indie and chain bookstores and have them order a copy in for you. I hope you love it. Thank you again for your support.

Purchase your signed copy of HUSH here

HUSH written by Nicole Lyons, is a searing collection of poems that takes the reader on an emotional ride, through the tunnel of mental illness and reckless love. Nicole Lyons’ voice undulates from pain to ecstasy, at breakneck speed. Erotic, soulful and authentic, Nicole has written a raw memoir encapsulated in poems. Stepping off the cliff, delving into HUSH, readers will find themselves breathless and wanting more.

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Have a peek at some of the early reviews here.

Scar – Michelle Schaper


The remains of the day
softly settled on her skin
She sat reflecting while
her heart let stars come in
With these stars
came dark of night,
twisting all her thoughts
A crescent moon scarring black canvas,
a reminder of her flaws
Staring at the luminous scar
floating oh so high,
she saw beauty shining from
this little tear up in the sky
And from that moment on,
she understood how true
We need the perfectly imperfect
to bring all the light through

© Michelle Schaper 2017


Michelle Schaper is a single mum of two beautiful daughters from Australia.
She began writing poetry as a little girl when she was raised as an only child by her adoptive parents. At age eight she wanted to write her own book so her dad brought her a typewriter and she taught herself to type and made that book by hand! Michelle has overcome many hardships and considers herself lucky to be alive. She was attacked and beaten near to death by two rapists at age fifteen, then encountered a series of violent relationships. Her dreams of writing were put on hold for some time as she studied counselling/psychology for personal growth and has worked for the past twelve years supporting people with disabilities,(or as Michelle likes to say ‘enhancing people’s abilities’.) Michelle is a mentor/advocate for disabilities and mental health, social training to support independence and inclusion within a community. Her own daughter has been diagnosed with anxiety disorders and much more but Michelle chooses to look beyond labels to see the person. ‘Soul Kissing’, Michelle’s first published book of playful poetry and prose is now available on Amazon and other online bookstores. You will find more of her musings on Instagram and Facebook.

Gathering Dust – S.L.Heaton

I wore it for you every day for eight years…strong and proud…hoping you would see…but you never did and made me feel as if I wasn’t worthy. So my heart just sat there on my sleeve gathering dust and my knees became bloodied and bruised from crawling after you…begging…a futile attempt to acquire what I so desperately needed. Epiphanies are strange…like sour candies…bitter at the onset and sweet in the center and it took eight more years to hit that sweet spot…in the meantime I took that old dusty heart and tucked it away like a keepsake in a treasure chest, for what I don’t know, but it no longer pined for you…and the pleas that fell on deaf ears would never again be uttered from my silent mouth because I realized that standing felt so much better than groveling. And again, epiphanies are strange sometimes, like the one that filled your mouth with that bitter taste when I left…except for you there was no sweet center.


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

And I Will Love You

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And I will love you.
In all of the ways
you should have always
been loved, I will love you.

I will dive headfirst into
the depths of your stormy
soul and drop anchors to
keep you from being swept
out to sea.
And I will love you.

In all of the ways
you should have always
been loved, I will love you.

I will master the
labyrinth of your brilliant
mind and drop hammers to
keep the walls
at bay.
And I will love you.

In all of the ways
you should have always
been loved, I will love you.

I will blow life into
your faded spirit
and drop gold to
mend your broken pieces.
And I will love you.

In all of the ways
you should have always
been loved, I will love you,
until you finally begin
to love yourself, and then
I will love you more.


© Nicole Lyons 2016




Just for tonight
let’s forget to remember
how we hurled our words,
like bottles filled with hate
smashing against the walls of
each other’s hearts, and how
we delighted in the little cuts
we made.
Just for tonight
let’s forget to remember
how we poked those little cuts,
grinding filth in deep, and how
we numbed ourselves to the taste
of our shame.
Just for tonight
let’s forget to remember how we
let our sick hearts die, and how
we watched shadows swirl and take
us both under.
Just for tonight
let’s remember how we
once loved so intensely that
together we could drive light
into the darkest
of places.

© Nicole Lyons 2016


  • A special thank you to my dear friend Bob for inspiring that last line.

How to love a Wanderer


If you happen to stumble upon a wanderer,
unlock the door and welcome them in, but do so
knowing that they are only there to rest their feet.
Don’t offer to unpack their bags, instead,
fill them to brimming and leave them
beside the back door, uncluttered and easy to reach.
Stoke the fire, put the kettle on, and guard your heart.
It’s passion and pain that nurture the unsettled.
Embrace them for the moment, delight in their tales,
and commit them to memory, when the sun rises
they will be gone, a pack full of hearts, and a soul
bursting with restlessness, leaving you incredibly richer,
and devastatingly poorer, all at the same time.

©Nicole Lyons 2016

The Bone Keeper



I have cleaned my closet
of all of the bones
to make room
for wispy summer dresses.
I wrapped those bones
in shame
and tucked them deep
into bags of guilt.
With the strings of regret
I tied the bags closed
and knotted them
with resentment.
I lifted the bags
one by one,
the weight of their bitterness
trying to crush me,
and I carried them
to the spot
where the bend finally breaks.
I dug deep to pull strength
to shred earth.
And I dug.
Passed coffins and fossils
I didn’t stop until I hit
never again.
My twisted arms
were mighty
when I pulled myself out
of that pit.
And as I stood
I exhaled gratitude
and let the bags fall
into the abyss,
no longer the keeper
of your bones.


© Nicole Lyons 2016