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1.4k · Feb 2013
A legend from the heavens
Nickols Feb 2013
Come listen closely, to the story in which I am speaking.
A legend told from just within a soul.
Quite now; close your eyes, be still your fleeting tongue.
Relax, which only could open the door to your minds perception.
A ride:
magical in proportion
but
bewitching in the fall.
Heavens gates which has been open, tripped by an angels halo;
over the clouds,
and
down to the rapidly approaching earth.

The fall from Grace has never looked more inciting.
© Victoria
1.4k · Aug 2014
Brothers.
Nickols Aug 2014
Look me in the eyes and tell me I am not already dead.
Look within my soul and tell me, all is finally at an end.
Look with your silver eyes, which reflect my very own.
A chaotic wind right before the deadly storm.
The redden horizon, fading into the coldest of blue.
A will of a way, left to burn within the goodwill of our mortal souls.

I see you Dear Brother...
A man shroud in the facade of a devils red clothing.
But men, we are not...
Are we, O brother of mine?
Two hidden lies, masked within a mould of our own demise.
A shell our mother has bestow upon her demon spawns.
Masqueraded truths smeared, until all came crumbling down.

I spoke of my hatred as I slipped from your grasp.
I fell into Hell with a malevolent wrath,
a curse befalling my tongue;

I hate you

Another lie, another sin.
Added to a pile of our transgression,
shadowing us in its path of our own destruction.

Look into my heart and see my love.
A love, which has not commenced into something dark and malcontent.

Look and see another me, (mirrored in your stare.)
Look and believe all is fine.
Look and tell me my blue coated wrath,
is nothing compared to the inferno of a burning Dante
while playing the part of your savior, Virgil.

Two souls, forever intertwined.
Both born under the sacred son,
but destined to fall under baited spikes.

When will there be rest, O Brother?
With my blade in your chest?
Or the indirect request of your blessed reprieve?

Look, before all is too far gone...
nigh is the time,
Look and you might just see...
Me.
but alas just yet,
maybe,
you shall see a piece of yourself as well.
A story of two brothers, twisted and torn. One Red, the other blue! They love each other but alas  they hate. Its a sad story. One not for the feint of heart! A love, unlike any other.

Two brothers, twined together in fate,
For ever more
1.4k · Sep 2012
Watery Screams.
Nickols Sep 2012
Your screams always cut the deepest.
Like a hand scolded under the hottest of water.
Cold to the touch as it tricks the nerve into believing--
A sheep in the wolfs clothing as it drifts into searing.
The watery message relays the misery.
The detail all there lain before my eyes.
My skin battered and marred--
Torn asunder with merely your voice.
Thick with rage, smoldering with pride.

Words intended to be used as a weapon, will always wound the feeble.
© Victoria
1.4k · Nov 2014
Battle.
Nickols Nov 2014
It all came to halt...

The battle cries;
The swinging swords;
Cleaving halberds;
Even death's opening doors.

It all came to a complete stop.

Enemies from both sides, frozen in time.
All looking towards him.
The man shining brightest with hate and honor.
No, not the hero.
Instead the mighty warrior,
With an ode to a king to claim the sacred lands.

Arrows arching, painting the sky black.
Red rivers running, beneath the bodies of the fallen.
Burning; burning; burning smoke, filling the air.
The smell of death hanging near.

He changed that day.
The day he turned on his rage.

Legend insists to say.
He was the reason they won the war that day.
I've been playing way too many video games...
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.
1.4k · Sep 2016
Conformity 9(W)
1.4k · Dec 2014
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.
1.3k · Oct 2012
Abyssal Decent.
Nickols Oct 2012
My love is like a stone,
strong & sturdy,
and like the rock it is,
It will always find away to sink;
disappearing to bottom of the depths of the waters.

My heart is the water,
Free flowing & nurturing,
but love, (the stone)
strong & sturdy,
in its own way.
Will always
find away to descend--
The decent, into the abyssal.

The abyssal is my longing,
cold & wanting.
And this stone will always-
find away to the bottom of my cavern.

The cavern is where my stone is lodge.
Forever alone with the water washing the hurt away.
Down into the abyssal of longing.
Forever caught within the deepest of cavern.
Who would've know rocks can sink... >.< lol

© Victoria
1.3k · Jan 2015
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.
1.3k · Jun 2014
The fall.
Nickols Jun 2014
You look to me with such clarity.
A sense of durability,
with a dash of humility.

The impossibility, of the greatest infallibility.
Leaves me quaking from your all desirabilitys.

Tranquility, before the fall.
White hot, rush,
over the wailing-wall.

The infamous red curtain-call.
Entering the entrance hall:
urban sprawl, to reinstall
the purpose to this circus for all.

"I love you."

There I said it,
removing my bulletproof-vest.
What a relief,
from upon my chest.
Undressed flesh of my *******,
the indirect test, to attest your barest of virtue.

It's your turn, my love...
To return the favor.
Speak the words,
I know I'll savor.

"I love you.", say it with meaning.

"I love you.", prey for it while you're sleeping.  

"I love you.", lay with it while dreaming.

Know: I saw you trip and fall...
as if it was a variety show.
Even though, the desire to know, was still there.

I wanted you...

Nay,

I want you...
I wanted you,
to know,
I saw you take the fall.
I like rhyming.
1.3k · Dec 2014
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.
1.3k · Jun 2014
Little Miss Understood
Nickols Jun 2014
Don't give up.
I said looking upwards.
It just the weight of the world,
bringing your tender heart down.

If their word corrupts you into silence,
I'll be the one to break that vow for you.

Don't give up.
It's just your hurt,
you're trying to hide.
Because I know, you want to burn bright.
Even in the darkness.
I'll be looking towards your light.

Misunderstood,
but don't give up.
Everyone needs to be heard.  

When your hearts heavy,
remember, I'll be there
lifting it for you.

I can hear you,
little miss understood.

Don't give up.
The word's 'Don't give up.' have been stuck in my head for the past two days. Finally decided to write them out and this is WHAT came out of it. *shrugs*
1.3k · Jun 2014
Shallow.
Nickols Jun 2014
I hate this feeling of dread creepin through my soul. There is no reason, other then I'm falling off the edge into shallow waters.
1.3k · Jan 2015
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 2014
Time is just a concept, a moment with a name.
Something in-which can never be evaded.

A freedom, lost in the concept,
bound to a ticking clock.

We want to forget.
Just for now.

Begone.
in
our
swirling
vortex.

Take me back to the day,
that moment with a name.
A time: where I was meant to be.
My thoughts clouded with sage.
A haze pushing me side-ways.
My black memory's.

Time is just a concept,

in-which we can never repair.

No going back-ways,
all will have to remain.

No-one to blame,
the fates will withhold.
And nothing will ever be foretold...
© Victoria
1.2k · Feb 2015
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.
1.2k · Aug 2014
Erroneous Angle.
Nickols Aug 2014
I'm bending at an impossible angle.
Over backwards,
to appease such erroneous behavior.

An implausible feat,
to gain a few meager feet.  

Eye contact
As our bodies touch.

Once again,
I've become the malleable traitor.
Bending over backwards,
placating your itchy trigger finger.  

That's why I'll take you back.
Oh no, that's the price I must pay.
With nothing else to give.
I'll spread my confession.

I could almost taste the anger,
lingering on my tongue.
A paper thin relationship,
ripped with a flick of the wrist.

I should leave you with nothing,
instead I'm giving you my heart on a silver plate.

Oh no, that's why I'll take you back.
Oh no, that's the price I must pay.
Oh no, it will be alright...
if I give you nothing to shake off...
I'll be alright.

Just have to remember,
your words cut like knifes.
Into my skin, carving lines.
Ownership marks.

MINE

There's several ways to thinking about.
Deriving it according to principles and theories.
Remembering there's tomorrow,
and a day after...

No matter what happens, will you take responsibility?

Oh no, that's why I'll take you back.
Oh no, that's the price I must pay.
Oh no, it will be alright...

Fading into a blue ball of anxiety...
(words)
1.2k · Jun 2014
Occupying but a few...
Nickols Jun 2014
My heart has many rooms,
I occupy but a few.
The rest go unvisited.
Till the light began to flicker on
and I've discovered a new part of me.
Take my hand,
lead me through the mazes of hallways.
Show me the rooms,
I've constructed for you.
Inhabit it.
Feed it with your passion of life.
Till my heart is lit ablaze from it.
Light each room with your warmth.

Make my heart into our home.
© Victoria
1.2k · Oct 2012
Dancing with a Vector.
Nickols Oct 2012
Reaching
                 as
                        I am
                                falling
                    up­-wards              
              into    
          the      
   Light.
                                          Blinding...
    ­                                                     Gleaming...
                                                     ­                      Shining...
                                                      ­       Swinging
                                               towards
                                                                ­ the  
                                                                ­          bottoms-
                                              ­                      facing
                                    ­                        the
                                     ­         dark-side.

A
    downwards
                    plunge.
                              crossing-
                        ­                   over
                                     into
                      forwards
                             ­         as
                                            the
     ­                                              world
                                                           spends
                                               onward.

when
Will
this
Ever
end

                       ­                               This
                             ­       downwards
                          dance...
             ­                             
on
And
on
It
goes...
                                   ­         A
                                                  never
        ­                                                    ending
      ­                                           spiral...
which
Path
have
You
chosen?
                   ­                                   The
                                                             blinding
                                                        ­                    twisting
                                                                ­                         dance of
                                                                ­         forgetting?
                                                     ­             Or
                                                 ­            the
                                                     hazy
                                             path
                                                      of    ­        
                                                        ­   remembering?

its
Your
choice.
                           ­                                             *Speak:
            ­                                                                o­r
                                                               ­             it's
                                               ­                      annihilation.
© Victoria
1.2k · Sep 2012
A Gleeful Mistake.
Nickols Sep 2012
It all started with a kiss--
Well more along the lines,
Of a full out miss.

But all of that,
Is neither here, nor there.  

Because it all started with your lips.
Your lips--
A matching set of pure sin.

But yet again that falls under schematics.

What matters is, how it ended.
With a shove, and then a pull.
The wall, of my resolved;
Crumbled far across my kingdom.

You ask for how it ended?

When did I ever say--
The story was finished.
=^,^=

© Victoria
1.1k · Apr 2014
Like the night sky.
Nickols Apr 2014
“I’m here for you. Where ever you need me. I there.”

I smiled up and held his glistening stare. I realized then and there, his eyes weren't dark brown like I’d previously thought but instead a deep ocean blue. So blue they were the color of the black night sky.
© Victoria
1.1k · Jun 2014
Cheesecake ride.
Nickols Jun 2014
Is there cheesecake at the end of this?
Because if not, **** this ride. . .

Fin.
1.1k · Mar 2017
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!
1.1k · Nov 2012
Ink drops
Nickols Nov 2012
A storybook written deep within the glimmering sand,
the simple message displayed in between sunshine infused ink drops.

Drip
and
a
Drop.


Down
they
flopped.


Night descends; and all is lost.
Destroying everything acquired.
The glory of the lore gone;
gone to being expired.
The moon's ink was a tad bit darker,
A different story, altogether.

Heathens
and
Demons;


Down
they
go.


Well, just until the sun rises...

And out befalls the sunshine,
white ink drops plunging down upon
the glittering grains of finely attuned glass.
The storybook saved, until the next moonfall.
© Victoria
Nickols Apr 2013
A forger is what they called you—
A man of many faces.
The dream is where I met you.
The dream is where I should have left you.

They warned me not to fall,
For falling in love with someone like you, is nothing but a game.
They hadn't warn me,
that falling for you could be so simple.

A crooked smile,
And a flash of baby blues.
And oh, great God—
Your mouth;
A sinful entrance it is, rolling on my name.
Arthur...

A Point Man is what they call me—
A man of many ideas.
The dream is where you met me.
The dream is where you should have left me.

Did they warn you of the danger of letting me in?
For falling in love with someone like me,
is nothing but a chance to win.
Had they warned you,
I’d already fallen for you?

You formed my soul into something  keen;
But yet, altogether malleable.
A pointed forgery,
A loaded dice, tumbling into the play—
Readying to steal your chips away.

Winning and losing all the while;
Truly believing, in our downward spiral
through the machine.

It was a shame, for it’s all in a dream.
Our dream within a dream.
Been watching a little too much Inception. I love that movie!! Love me some Arthur/Eamse.

© Victoria
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..."
1.0k · Jun 2014
Angsty breathing.
Nickols Jun 2014
Blue eyes** serpent. The devil dressed in sinister clothing. Carve my heart, and it was bleeding in his hand. Lust swirled over head, passion laced on a sinful seduction.
A voice of reason, lost in his twisted words of appeal. I wanted his painful kiss, with my tongue scraping a razor blade deal.
His abuse is all knowing but only in the way of  his desire.

Blue eyes demon; how I let you use me. Twisted and scorned by a hand of Hell; till there was nothing left but a wayward vessel. All of the memory's of our sweet serenity, gone and filled with angsty longevity .
How do I continue forth?
Walking this path of broken and cracked pavement.
I died a thousand times, watching you at the other end of the knife. If only you could see the blood on your hands.
I wanted to heal you. I wanted to feel you. I wanted to be closer to the time when you could finally see me.

Blue eyes, it's time for goodbye. You may still hold my beating heart, but alas I'm the one living and moving on.
1.0k · Jul 2014
Opaque Glass.
Nickols Jul 2014
The past hurts like an ocean made up of opaque glass.
And you asked me to exist within the shatter-jagged fragments.
An amphibious creature,
Breathing the pain through shredded gills.
Numbed, bruised and bleeding.
Wounds are what they called them.
Battle torn from a thousand different edges.
Don't you feel them?
  The watery shards wedging into your sides,
  Piercing your lungs of the will to exhale.
I feel it, like rough hands upon my neck;
  Tearing through my flesh.  
  Slipping down my throat.
Till I'm choking on red.

You asked, and I confessed.
My passions, the black and the blue.
Inhaling the wine-water,
I want to save you.
Even with an ocean of glass standing in my way.
I want to save you.
Swimming and swimming, until this agony bled away.
I wanted to save you.
Even though I knew I couldn't.
*I wanted to be the one to save you.
991 · Sep 2014
Missing space.
Nickols Sep 2014
There's an ***** missing in my body.
Right between my heart and lungs.
An empty space filled in by bone and blood.

It should be there,
Instead,
it pains me that it's simply not.
A missing section of myself and my fellow humans, lost to evolution.

There's an ***** missing in our body.
An empty space between the heart and lungs.
A vital piece of something important,
That we've all mistakenly forgotten.

There's a piece missing.
The section between heart and lungs.
An ***** that can compute the pangs of lust and lack of oxygen,
when falling in love.
I blame my phone for the typos.
989 · Jun 2014
Lost-girl.
Nickols Jun 2014
Tonight is the night.
When the girl and the sea can atlas become one.
Her flawless legs blending into the wet sand.
A thin waist, which is clouded in white, disappears into the frothy foam.
I watch her go, her blue bodice rolling away on a wave.

She doesn't look back at me standing on the shore. The sun cresting on the hills.
I will always miss her, and her mint green eyes swimming in tears of loneliness.

The lost-girl who vanished into the sea without me.
I haven't been writing lately. My computer took a dive and I'm waiting for the new peices to arrive to fix it. I dislike writing on my phone. (The typos drive me nuts and the autocorrects)

I've actually gotten back in to painting. I've been posting my work on SketchClub! It's an amazing site for artists to come together and share. My screen name on SketchClub is: Pandarra.

Come check my work out! <3
988 · Mar 2017
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.
Nickols Feb 2015
One day
your parents
will put you down
and never, ever
pick you up again.
984 · Jun 2014
Last night...
Nickols Jun 2014
I died last night.
A stain of red upon the sheets.

I died last night.
Without a sound leaving my lips.

I died last night.
And I'm still lying there.

I died last night.
Without a care.

I died last night,
to live for today
and to grow for
tomorrow.

I died last night,
to live.
982 · Nov 2018
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
979 · Jul 2014
Five fingers imprint
Nickols Jul 2014
His hand wrapped so fiercely around my heart,
a five fingers imprint.
To which will never go away.
Even if he wants to go,
the marks would still be there...
Mutating my heart until it ached.
That boy had left an everlasting impression on me,

I will never be the same.
968 · Jul 2014
sacrificial lamb.
Nickols Jul 2014
The holy pages burnt slowly as it drew you closer into a darken rapture of sorts.
Ashes and soot crumbling from a wayward vessel, down into you, the sacrificial lamb.

You burnt the sacred pages. The fluttering flecks of a religion scattered around your scarred and bleeding feet. The enlightenment you sought was nothing but a false ploy; a world of innocents to crumble and deploy.

Balefully cries linger on the opening of trepidation. With the wingspan of purgatory, wrapped in nefarious black silk.

You!

You, virtuous martyr...

Abbadon's gate, with it's scaly arms, stands open and wide, deceitfully at the ready.

*The question is; Are you willing to pay for your deceitful sins?
959 · Oct 2012
Deteriorating retrograde.
Nickols Oct 2012
Its all a fantasy-
                         or was it all a mystery.
                                                        ­Have I lost all sense of reality,
                                                        ­     ­                                            all the while,
                                                          ­                                                                 ­ slipping down the banister?
                                                       ­      ­                        ;joke cruel all it Was
                                            .magister the to listening          
              -thing every While
knocked up-
                  backwards.
                               and then,
                                          **əpısdn-uʍop
© Victoria
956 · Apr 2013
The power of the word...
Nickols Apr 2013
The first rays of the sun were peeking over the green tree tops. The sky masked in shades of rich oranges and amber as they fought back the depths of the dark lonely night sky. Deep shades of reds and pinks collided with colors of the coldest blues and blacks, leaving a beautiful display of purples and violets bursting through the heavens above.

The lingering stars twinkled dimly and were fading fast with the sun rising brighter in the colorful sky.

It had been one of those warm clear peaceful summer nights with the stars and moon full and round, shimmering beautifully high above.

You could still hear the grass hoppers chirping their sorrowful tune as the night faded into twilight with the morning fog hugging everything it could reach.
© Victoria
951 · Mar 2017
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.
951 · Oct 2014
Not made for two.
Nickols Oct 2014
The party's over.
My makeup left fading, the remembrance of something beautiful.
My black dress is on the floor, replaced by your warm arms.
I shared a bed with you, a surface not made for two.
Snuggled under the same blanket.
A single pillow for our heads.
I felt your warmth through the night.
A strong presence at my back.
Your nose crowning into my hair.
We slept pressed together, our body twining with one another.
I slept with you last night.

The party may be over, but I'm still here with you in a bed not made for two.
950 · Feb 2015
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.
939 · Sep 2014
I am real
Nickols Sep 2014
I am not your maid.
I am not your personal cook.
I am not a butler for you to boss about.
I'm not your employee...
Your slave, nor am I anything of the such.
I'm not a *** doll.
Or a pillow to cuddle with.

I am a person made up of water, blood and flesh.

I think.
I feel.
I bleed.
I cry.
I laugh.
And I live.

Please don't confuse these things.

For I am real.
And you shouldn't take me for granted.
Don't mistake my apathy for empathy.
908 · Apr 2015
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.
906 · Jun 2014
Unpleasant
Nickols Jun 2014
I am not a pleasant person, or even really all that nice.
Instead imagine me as the broken glass you backed over and now are left with a flat tire.
The one black sock in your load of whites, staining the fabric in shame.
That annoying buzzing in your ear that never goes away.
The wall you stubbed your toe on in the middle of the night and screamed, "*******!"

I am not a Sunday morning
or even
a Friday night's lay.
I'm a Monday, 5PM traffic hour just waiting to flip you the bird.
I am the gum on the sidewalk which you happened to step in.
I'm a disaster.
A train wreck.
The red stain on existence, that won't ever come out.

I'll never will be any thing like, a simple smile. Or even a timeless wonder.

I am the darkness that dances in the light.

I am me.
Unpleasant and really not that nice.
This is a poke at myself. Sometimes when you're down, all you can do is make fun of yourself.
904 · Jul 2014
A love like yours.
Nickols Jul 2014
Your love is like a forbidden fruit at the top of a tree;
I could strive for the juicy apple,
reaching out; standing on the tips of my toes,
stretching my body as far as it could go,
only to have my straining fingers graze the bottom of the redden fruit,
for it to slip out of my starving hands.

A love like yours. Girl, it's too good to be true.
Nickols Oct 2013
A face within the shadows. Held before the high Queen, a perched Angel on her shoulder. Watching from above in woe. She died held within his wings of sorrow. Feathers of white, adorn her ****** head a crown. Eyes of candle lit affliction touched her ******* as it no longer rose, to fall.

Warned- of the consequence for showing any empathy. This Angel turned from the benediction of his once reverent Father. Emotions unlike no other, traced his soul with a grace of its own. His beloved Queen: the one who moved him so far from the radiant Light. Now lain to rest in a nameless plot.

He was warned of these sorts of emotions. Warned of what would befall the cause...

Now see here, this is where our dreadful tale comes to a harsh & grievous ending... A punishment befitting the sinful crime. The mark; of the fallen. A brand, burnt into the Angel's flesh. The ungodly sign of his corruption, for all his brethren to bare witness. Stripped of his God given wings, this accursed angelic creature was banished from heaven... Where he belong, out amongst the other sinners and the fallen.

**Fin
This is a story of love and heartache. A passion which burnt too bright, and snuffed it'self out before its own time. Whether or not you believe in love, the consequences of your actions will always out weigh your wants and desires.

© Victoria
893 · Nov 2013
Nefelibata
Nickols Nov 2013
Tell me about the world through my dreams... A green meadow blowing on the breeze of your sneeze.
The blue river flows within a see through view.

Tell me of the meaning within my dreaming ... On which side of wanting  does the world bleed into.
Both are cruel, and simultaneously in good. When love hurts within transitions into a mission of self deliverance.

Tell me of the world through my dreams... A Nefelibata in nature. Soaring far over head. With clouds of white as my wings. I fly... Until all is lost.
And I awake.

-then-

I
Fall
To
Earth
© Victoria
858 · May 2014
Deity of lies.
Nickols May 2014
The ache is deep inside. There, just where your knife resides. Didn't I beg for your mercy? My throat screamed raw from wailing for my surrender. A barbaric answer, I did receive. Your concealed dagger buried within my left side. I stumbled and fell to the ground and watched you walk away, with a whoosh of your dark cloak. My vision blurred within deaths grasp. Left to bleed on the cold granite. Pale-white stone smeared amber. Oh, God. That awful color.

I couldn't help it my love, even with your fervent betrayal lain open and exposed. My waning eyes traced each strand of your ebony hair as the manic winds whipped them around your unhinged-grin.

"What a vision you are, my god." I whispered my ****** words staining my teeth.

You glanced back then, with the greenest of green eyes. A swirling ball of chaos with a deadly smile. The gold of your curving helmet reflecting; what could have been; what should have been between us. You looked back at me, right before you vanished in your clouds of illusions and smoke.

"I worshiped you..." I spoke to the dissipating air where you stood.

My god. My king. My lover. My killer.

"--and I trusted you." An empty echo of words ringing truth within my ears.
My time is fading in this realm. I am merely a red smudge on the ground. I question myself as I drown, lost in my sea of blood.
'How did I ever come to trust a deity of mischief and lies?'
© Victoria
856 · Jul 2014
The bringer on the rise.
Nickols Jul 2014
I stand before the walls of a glorified failure as it tumbles beneath itself.
The nature of a grave danger, labored with a dire wager.
Plunges and crumple, into a pile of rubble
and to continue forth into a hidden tunnel.

Dirt stain fingers and my inner winner;
The only tools left to dig a way out of our rapidly crumbling puzzle.

You delivered me my unfathomable killer-
A ineradicable form of justice.
My sacramental, misjudgment of
a thrill gone astray.
Leaving me feeding the birds which prey on saints most days.

I stand before the wall as a simple thrall.
Dirt and grime painting my nails.  
I stand in my hellish pit readying to climb.
Ready to rise from the plague surrounding me.
To fill my lunges with air, not lingering with death.

I am ready.
The bringer on the rise.
845 · Aug 2014
Black Tar, Suzzie.
Nickols Aug 2014
There once was a girl named Suzzie.
I guess you could say Suzzie
was missing some vital screws in her younger years.

All day and all night, Suzzie would amuse to enthuse,
until the point of misuse.
Before finding herself reusing.
Relapsing into that old familiar abuse.  

You could say, Suzzie wasn't content in her life.
Hell-bent on the decent into torment.
***... violence... drugs...
And to what extent...  
Consenting to the need?
Proceeding to only concede?

The black bead...
The devilish ****.
A seed to heed warning too.

All day and all night, Suzzie would churn.
Yearning for her upturn,
for the point of no return.

Instead Suzzie turned her life around.
A full 360.
She learned, to earn.
Spurred by her yearning and churning,
of a childhood induced coma.

Kindness; rightness...
The mere brightness all from Suzzie's mindset.
A guidance from the righteous highness.

She's won her inner crisis at last!

"Bye, bye Black Tar, Suzzie!"

"Hello, the newer better you!"
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