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Nov 2018 · 652
Pleasure.
Nickols Nov 2018
Her body only existed where he touched her.
Twisting and writhing to his hands upon her flesh.
The rest of her evaporated into smoke.
             Dispersing into the nights air from a masterstroke
Sep 2018 · 263
Half-truth reality
Nickols Sep 2018
It’s easy to lie to yourself when you’re so debilitated. It something to come to terms with; to turn a half-truth into a reality.
Mar 2018 · 340
Ink prints.
Nickols Mar 2018
I focus on the end.
The only thing which matters.
A path for my feet to walk upon.
The road of stains and mistakes,  
inky foot prints left in my wake.
Apr 2017 · 716
Semblance
Nickols Apr 2017
I didn't start existing to you, until a moment ago when you started reading the words I am writing.
A random person behind the poetry lines.
A thought turned into an idea to read.
I don't know you.
and you don't know me.
but for a moment we exist together with letters and words scrolling through a white paper occurrence.

I give the meaning, and you illuminate the reason.
A give and take kind of semblance of a relationship.

I'll never meet you face to face, nor will I ever feel your hand in my own.
But for a moment we existed together in harmony.

and it was wonderful!
Apr 2017 · 619
Drowning
Nickols Apr 2017
Something inside his chest clenches.
His throat feels constricted, like he can’t swallow or breathe.
He squeezes his eyes shut to try and chase the feeling away.
He doesn't know what is happening,
he's panicking as he tries to draw oxygen into his lungs
He's suffocating.
His chest hurts and he cant believe how much it hurts.
It’s almost physical and he clutches his hands so tight
he feels his bone begin to ache.
Nickols Apr 2017
This feels so wrong.
Living on a respirator,
healing from love's infection.

I use to have a pulse,
right before the insanity struck.

Thump, thump, my heart sung.
Finding comfort in my own breathing.

Then I saw you...
heard you.
felt you...
and I breathed you in.

My heart skipped in it's beat.
And my breath was gone.

Wrong- is it wrong?
It feels wrong.
Beyond all reason,
I have fallen in love with you.
And I know that
your taste is such a thing-
Such a thing I'd die for...

You're all I've ever wanted.
Now you're all gone.
Thieving my breath
and stealing off into the night.

Even though I love you,
you couldn't wait to leave me.
So, I'll whisper with my last breath,
about how much I miss you.

I can't help but close my eyes
and lay my body back down.
Letting the machines keep me alive.
Till the day you'll be back
to breathe life into me.
Thump, thump, my heart sung. Was the original poem title.
Mar 2017 · 890
Words.
Nickols Mar 2017
Sometimes when I set my pen to paper, I have no idea what will appear.

Swoops and swirls.

And backward twirls.

My mind has created once again.
Mar 2017 · 1.0k
Primary
Nickols Mar 2017
I was five when I asked my mother,
"What color am I?"
She smiled and explained I was the color yellow;
radiant and life giving.

I grew, and grew, and when I was ten I asked my mother again,
"What color am I?"
She leaned really close.
Looking me up and than down.
"Blue," she spoke.
"The color of the skies and sea's.
Vast in wisdom and deep with honesty."


When I was fifteen
and started to come into myself,
I asked my mother again,
"What color am I?"
She looked at me, reading me clearly.
"Red. You are the color red.
Unshakable with passion but uncertain in your strength."
  

The year I turned twenty, my life was barely beginning.
I was filled with such trepidation about moving away from my family.
I asked my mother, standing in the threshold of our home,
"What color am I now?"

My mother paused in her answer,
her wise eyes seeing something I never would or could.
A smile spread on her tired face, "My darling little girl,"
She started to say touching my cheeks.

"You are the color of the sun, yellow; radiant and life giving.

You are the color of the skies and sea's, blue; vast in wisdom and deep with honesty.

You are the color red; unshakable with passion, and most certain in your strength.

*You are beautiful, caring, determined, energetic, firm.
My bright and shining daughter,
you are a rainbow and everyone looking, will know."
This was written for my mother. She is always there to help me. She is my bestfriend and she has given some of the best advice in my life. I love her dearly. Now and always!
Mar 2017 · 504
not yours to own.
Nickols Mar 2017
Forced to sit on idle hands,
       watching as the snake slips
                    belly first inside your home.
                                  Into his place, his life, your wife.


Oh, what a life he's stolen.
Mar 2017 · 933
One Chance.
Nickols Mar 2017
Dream as if you will live forever;
endeavor to rise from the ashes.

Live as if you'll die tomorrow;
devise a plan because there will be
an invariable end.

Tomorrow might rise...
and hell, the world will still be turning,
but tomorrow might not come...
and today was all I had.

I knew I tried my best
and dreamed as if I'd live forever.
and lived as if I'd die tomorrow.
Feb 2017 · 587
Untitled
Nickols Feb 2017
"I could actually, win," I said to myself.

Then reality hit me in the face.

And I lost, before I could even try.
It's been one of those type of day.
Feb 2017 · 600
Botched Memories.
Nickols Feb 2017
I'll remember you as you were.
Innocent; out against the bluest of blue.
Where the sky hangs low,
on the veil of green lands.

I'll think of you.
From time to time.
With a soft thought,
and a gentle smile.

A fond memory,
To get me through
this storm.

However,
I'd cut off my own hand,
before I ever reach for you again.

For you are the thorns
on a red, red rose.
The gleaming needle waiting
to be threaded.
The nefarious laced poison
dipped in candy.

I wouldn't dare reach for you.
Because the pain may fade,
But the scars you left,
Will always be the same.
I rather remember you in fondness,

Than you as a black heartless.

Call it a botched memory.

I'll call it 'trying to get by'.
Jan 2017 · 735
Downhearted confessions.
Nickols Jan 2017
I'm broken beyond repair.

A thinning string, eventually, snapping under extreme force.

A shattered piece of glass under ****** feet.

A crestfallen melody, playing on a skipping record player.

I am nothing.

An empty room, barren of any light.

A dark hole, filled with dirt and worms.

Rust and paint flecking off a dejected car.

It hurts.

Like a back which hides the knife.

An accusation flung towards me,
without any precedence towards the cause.

My rights taken away from me.

My hopes dashed before my very eyes.

I am hurting.
For I am broken.
Because I am nothing.
Feeling rather useless right now *dejected sigh*
Jan 2017 · 642
the voice inside you calls
Nickols Jan 2017
I know heaven from the lines on your face.

You know truth by the lies being told.

I know I've sinned from the tears in your eyes.

No one prays, until they're in pain.
They don't believe in God, till a war has been won.

I'm not a demon if there's no fire in my eyes,
my ghostly feeling are authentic,
Even if they're not spoken in tongue.

You're not an angel with wings cast from soot.
A pedestal built upon lies I have said.

Will you move when the voice inside you calls?

Will you stay when y(our) light begins to dim?

Or might you, show me the wrong I have wrought?

And together, we will let love in.
Nov 2016 · 676
Inside story.
Nickols Nov 2016
"I'm not mad."

Narrator: She was angry. And maybe even a little resentful.
Oct 2016 · 615
Murder
Nickols Oct 2016
It wasn't until her back was turned,  she realized her grave mistake. His knife slipped in silently between her ribs. With little effort it pierced her heart. The shock and shame. The ridicule, it was all the same.

She died knowing where to lay the blame.
Sep 2016 · 1.3k
Conformity 9(W)
Nickols Aug 2016
....
...
..
.
Till the moment he concedes to his worries, shame and fears.

He is finally free of the mermaids den. Effervesce ripples around him,
on the journey to the surface.
Deliverance echoes through him as he crests the waters edge.

He has made it.

Coughing up his panic. He breaths deeply; the power of patience and
perseverance.

He is alive.
and
He is free.

....
...
..
.
THE END

Logical buoyancy wins again >:)
Nickols Aug 2016
....
...
..
.

--And there he lays on the  ocean floor. Surround by all his misgivings and uncertainties. Jagged rocks like daggers in his back. They whisper a malicious sirens song.

"Rest," They sing a sweet love song.
"Rest and all will be well again."
All the while, he continues to bleed.

....
...
..
.
Nickols Aug 2016
....
...
..
.
--The waters swells around him, drowning him in panic as it rushes into his mouth. He can't breath. Insecurity sets in as the shame descends into his lungs. The sea swallows him whole.

One bite.

down; down; down,

into the cavern below.
....
...
..
.
Aug 2016 · 502
Logical buoyancy (Part Two)
Nickols Aug 2016
....
...
..
.

Will he continue to be buoyant? Onward in a grey sea of tedium and apathy? His rickety raft held together with persistence alone. Weaved, hitch-after-stitch, until it all falls apart.

....
...
..
.
Aug 2016 · 680
Logical buoyancy (Part One)
Nickols Aug 2016
A vast and empty sea of despair circles from every side of his life. With waves of panic, insecurity, and shame lapping, every now and then, at the bottom of his rickety raft of lucidity keeping him afloat.

....
...
..
.
Jul 2016 · 481
Infernal Storm.
Nickols Jul 2016
There were days where I'd crawled miles on hands and knees.
Every agonizing inch with only thoughts of finally resting at your side.

There were weeks where I'd close my eyes,
because the damage around me was to horrifying to witness.
My vision blurred from bleary kisses.
The caress of a backhanded comment.

There were months, and months where I held my words at bay;
keeping all my worries and doubts inside my mouth.
A devastating storm brewing just off shore on the tip of my tongue.

There were years where I would cry, begging for some sort of validity.
A single conformation from your lips.
I was in fact being heard over my silent screaming.

I tired of this endless journey.
Days.
Weeks.
Months.
Years of yearning.

Dredging through trenches on fire.
This tiresome struggle to inhale a single smokeless breath.

I drag myself on; towards the end and far beyond.
A clear blue sky waiting for my upheaval.
The air clean with a heavenly scent of freedom and home.

Some people are lost in the fire but some are built up within the infernal storm.
Jul 2016 · 279
4(Words)
Nickols Jul 2016
I.
Am.
Not.
Enough.
Jul 2016 · 250
Green (18W)
Nickols Jul 2016
Even through my flooding gates of pain.
I could still appreciate how unbelievable green his eyes truly are.
Jul 2016 · 2.0k
Freak Show.
Nickols Jul 2016
Black eyes,
Deep and endless.
Shines a light,
Bright and timeless.

A kind smile,
On a gnarled face.
Handsome in his
own way.

Honesty.
A lost virtue,
In this wasteland
We call home.

Smoke drifts
from a parted mouth.
Escapes into the
nothingness of the
green-tinged sky.

"Moments like these,
I know all that karma
stuff is all bull."


Those are your words.
Not mine.

"Because no one like me,
should be this lucky."


There is no one like you.

A man out of time,
in stolen red duds.
tricorn hat tipped
to the side.

That smirk,
that damnable,
smirk, plastered,
forever to your smug mug.

Your ruddy hand
reaches back.
Open palmed
full of scars.
To grasp my mine.
Much smoother skin.

"Come on love,"
you say,
with your voice
full of gravel.

*"Lets get this freak show
on the road."
(I think I just went full on Fangirl!!)
Jul 2016 · 659
Vacancy; a hollow word
Nickols Jul 2016
I feel empty.
A black hole in my center,
taking all of my gravity,
annihilating my heart rate,
captivating it to molecular weight.

I feel hollow.
An irascible clout,
of unimaginable doubt.

Day-in-and-day-out.

I wonder--
Will this ever finish?
This plague of bubonic proportions.
A rage sung in monotonic tones.

I ask--
Have I seen this all before?
A red light, in hindsight,
despite holding on too tight.

Warnings of pure dread,
Heard over head,
The last true mouthpiece
spoken in tongues.

Freedom of assembly,
where there is no law,
of degeneration.
Divination;
or
a lack of.

I say again,
I feel vacant.
A hole in my soul,
where all I am,
comes tumbling out.
Abnormal activity of neural circuits may be the cause.
Feb 2016 · 352
15(w)
Nickols Feb 2016
With a press of a button, the sound ceases to a stop and silence ensues.
Nickols Oct 2015
The lady in white turns and my gaze runs over her, I was taken aback—

This mysterious woman was like the missing puzzle piece of the black and white picture lain out in a lack of color. She is a classic beauty. Her face has all the sharp angles and the perfect pout of her red up-turned mouth, but it was her eyes which captured me.

They are actually… Actually, the color of a persimmon fruit and like a persimmon fruit; which is very flavorful if eaten at the right time of year but very astringent if eaten wrongly. This woman’s redden eyes churn with a sweet taffy, a chaotic intent bubbling below.

The sound of her mystical voice drifts towards me like glass wrap in sensual silk, poised to strike but yet a feminine edge to it.

"Hello..."
Aug 2015 · 2.2k
Snippet (Anxiety)
Nickols Aug 2015
It made his gut churn with the familiar sensation.
Guilt.
Quilted with humiliation.
A rope knotted in irritation.
Hitch after stitch,
trepidation grew,
until he could feel it in his toes...
Snippet.
Aug 2015 · 626
Red
Nickols Aug 2015
Red
I've never seen blood,
When he sold me an ocean.
A wonderland of lust,
swaying me like a sirens song.
Losing myself out,
in the rolling sea of
red.
Aug 2015 · 435
Murdered
Nickols Aug 2015
... My phone to death...
Jul 2015 · 1.6k
The end.
Nickols Jul 2015
Now I know.

Trust falling on a daggers edge.
Will leave a deeper wound,
when you reach the end.
May 2015 · 569
Full Closure
Nickols May 2015
You could never feel my story.
Every word written in between the lines.
Scrawled in the deepest shades of my morality.

I'll hand you a box, full of my darkness.

It'll be years before you realize, this was a gift, to understand my story.
Apr 2015 · 591
Walking on.
Nickols Apr 2015
My muscles ache from the emotional burdens you constantly place on my shoulders.

My bones creak from the additional weight, I'm barley able to carry.

I drag my feet along in the dirt.
My knees, weak and trembling from the great effort of not falling face-first to the ground.  

Instead, I carry on.
Walking with my head held high.
Far from the murky dirt, below my feet.

I may ache and creak from the strain.
But I'll be ****** if I'll crumble under your backward ideology.
I'm tired of arguing.
Apr 2015 · 878
Gasping In The Mist.
Nickols Apr 2015
My fingers laced a crown,
as you carried me into the lapping water.
I drew a breath...

And you tucked me into death's bed.
Water filled my lungs
with a slip of your invasive tongue.
--A goodbye kiss.

You left me there.
Slipping down into the icy waves.
Beneath the rising water.

My breath gone as you dissolved from my bubbly view.
Feb 2015 · 400
ΑΩ
Nickols Feb 2015
By fates hands she will arise from the seed,
with the joining of the seven.
A cause is the effect.
An effect will be the cause.
Sow the seed; to reap the fruit.
Alpha unbeknownst to the omega.
It will all begin, within the ending.
For a book I'm writing. It's supposed to be open-ended.

The term Alpha and Omega comes from the phrase "I am the alpha and the omega" (Koiné Greek: "ἐγὼ τὸ Α καὶ τὸ Ω"), an appellation of God[2] in the Book of Revelation (verses 1:8, 21:6, and 22:13).
Feb 2015 · 915
Abomination On The Tongue.
Nickols Feb 2015
I shall become a devil for the last time.
For revenge is all consuming,
And my time has finally come to return.
In the end,
When the ground
is blistered and torn from blight,
I'll return to you,
In evil's form.
I dunno. It just stumbled out of me.
Feb 2015 · 1.2k
Middle Ground
Nickols Feb 2015
He's an angel
fallen from grace.
I'm a demon
ascending to the
peak of infinity.

Could we ever coexist together,
out in the harmonious grayscale?
Grayscale is a range of shades of gray without apparent color. The darkest possible shade is black, which is the total absence of transmitted or reflected light. The lightest possible shade is white, the total transmission or reflection of light at all visible wavelength s. Intermediate shades of gray are represented by equal brightness levels of the three primary colors (red, green and blue) for transmitted light, or equal amounts of the three primary pigments (cyan, magenta and yellow) for reflected light.
Nickols Feb 2015
One day
your parents
will put you down
and never, ever
pick you up again.
Jan 2015 · 748
I Didn't Know (revised.)
Nickols Jan 2015
For all the poems
written on the subject
of unrequited love.
There are far too few
discussed on
being the desire
of the affection.

A difficult topic
to build a
foundation on.
Considering,
you're suffocating in
debilitating silence.
How could I know
if the words were
never spoken?

Like counting birds
against the blaring sun,
its almost
an impossible feat
to accomplish
battling a massive
lack of knowledge.

--and with the
cataclysm raining
down on your shoulders.
Do you feel cold
and lost in desperation?
A silent hope built up
into a concealed bonfire.

Standing alone.
Burning alone.
Impossibly alone.

I didn't know.
The words never
left your tongue.

No promises made
No catharsis expressed.
Only lustful secret
clutched to your chest.

Sometimes solutions
are not as simple as
they seem.
If only I'd known,
If only I'd been told
long ago;
then maybe
this wretched ending
could have been
something beautiful
instead
of a juvenile mess...
I wrote this and then re-wrote this and then re-re-wrote it again. All because I didn't like how it played out on paper. I think I'm happy with it now.

Sorry If I annoyed you. :^)
Jan 2015 · 2.5k
Pseudonym
Nickols Jan 2015
I've taken special precaution to protect myself.
Meaning, I don't give my email to people I do not know.
My phone number is clutched to my chest.
Even my real name is never disclosed.

I live by pseudonym.
Pandarra,
Pandakin
or simply just Panda.
And'
If that's not to your liking.
Try;
Vearena,
Vearona
or even Vea.
I have lots of names,
all of them a mouthful
as they roll off your tongue.

I live with precautions,
to keep people at bay.
Too many idiots and pervert
now-a-days.
But that's not the worst,
heathens and **** dwell
as well.
People who are working the angles
to make a quick buck or two
off the naive and the unknowing.

So learn from me well;
live with precautions.
Keep people at arms length,
because then, and only then,
can they not
sink their teeth in.
Watch out for scammers. They are lurking around on HelloPoerty.  Never disclose your private information to ANYONE on the internet.
Jan 2015 · 1.2k
When you know... (Revise)
Nickols Jan 2015
You know he's in love with you,
When he says you're pretty without your makeup on.

You know he's in love with you,
When he will kiss you first thing in the morning.
(Morning breath and all.)

You know he's in love with you,
When he'll support you through the worst.

You know he's in love with you,
When he'll hold back your hair
because you drank too much.

You know he's in love with you,
When you're yelling and he simply smiles because he understands.

You know he's in love with you,
When he takes your hands in his and tells you, "all will be well again."
In that moment when you need to hear it the most.

You know he's in love with you,
When he calls you beautiful, instead of something without meaning.

You know he's in love with you,
When the whole worlds stops,
because he said those three little words.

"I love you."

That's when you know he's in love with you.
I LOVE my husband!!!! <3 This is for him!

(Had to rewrite this.)
Nickols Jan 2015
"Sadness is a place?" The heart questioned the brain.

"Sometimes." Answered the brain knowingly. "Sometimes, it's' a place for dwindling."

"--So when is it not a place?" asked the heart in a perturbed manner.

"When it's no longer needed, it will cease to exist." Replied the brain.
Jan 2015 · 1.3k
Self inflicted.
Nickols Jan 2015
I'll touch the notion with cation.
Hands held behind my back,
I'll skim the rack of knowledge.  
Article by article.
I'll read without touching it.
Eyes flicking over the pages and pages.
Till I'm understand what's the meaning of
self inflicted rage, really is all about.
Jan 2015 · 801
Blocked Progress.
Nickols Jan 2015
Nothing is happening...
I may have lost my ability
to form words.
Still nothing is happening.

My pen is empty.
My fingers tied in knots.
My tongue has wrung dry.

When will it all being anew...
I ask.
When nothing is happening,
with this heavy block crushing my hands
of any progress I might have brought into the light.

All because nothing is happening,
when you have The Writers Block.
Enough said...
Dec 2014 · 1.2k
Forgiveness Denoused
Nickols Dec 2014
I condemn you. I condemn you.
One; for the pain you brought.
And the second for the continual shame.

**** you. **** you.
One; for my severed heart on the ground.
And the second for the boot stomped across it.

I hate you. I hate you.
One; for my dignity.
And the second for my pride.

I shall forgive you. I shall forgive you.**
One; for the pity I feel for you,
And the second for my own self-worth.
Dec 2014 · 1.3k
Forms of art.
Nickols Dec 2014
Immune to the depravity.
Enslaved to the creativity.
A weaken soul, to the artist brush.
A becon of burning coals, in the artisans stove.

Two sides of the same coin.

We are writers.
We are painters.
We are smelters.
We are dancers.
We are singers.

We are art.

We are, us.
Dec 2014 · 243
Taken
Nickols Dec 2014
You've taken my soul.
Cut it from the seams.
An empty vessel,
Floating on a stream.
Dec 2014 · 455
Original Sin
Nickols Dec 2014
When you touched me,
I died a thousand tiny deaths.
Hand up my dress,
I sung for you.
Lips on my flesh,
I danced under you.

I cried your name to the heavens.
My sins, to the skies.
Lain sprawled on my back,
as my body shook ever higher...
Ever tighter.

Stroke the tender, to light the pyre.
Touch the torch, to ignite the fire.
Burning. Burning. Burning.

Let us burn.
Burn in the sweetest fire
known to man.

The pleasures,
The depravity,
The lechery,
The insanity.

An original sin;
but a sin we will
all
eventually
revel
in.
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