Prometheus-S.K. Nicholas/A Journal for Damned Lovers

S. K. Nicholas


As the sun comes in through the window, I work on a few sentences to conjure something of merit. As I go ahead and open the door to the other side, I pass her ahandful of literary lube as she tries so hard to tickle herself into action. If it doesn’t work, she’ll spend the rest of the day sulking. She’ll scowl at me as if it’s all my fault when in fact it’s her fault and no one else’s. She’s got a sharp mind and a passionate soul, but fuck me does she make a mountain out of a molehill. You got something to say? Then say it. You feel dead inside? Then stab wide open that chest and smear your guts in the faces of all those who never shared your faith. You want to be beautiful? You want to taste God? Then break yourself and make yourself…

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