The Cycle

November 21, 2013 § Leave a comment

Sprinting escape from
Inertia. Pitch and yaw of days
Stars char drunken smears ‘cross
Endless bubbling pitch
– the guillotine blade timeless.
Cruel sun speeds
Reckless, flinging, flees edge to edge in illness
Breeze to gale as seconds scream by
In a dream-state
Knowing, needing
A trapped fool.

Nicole Best



November 19, 2013 § Leave a comment

Lay weary eyes upon hope
Impending orange, hot and
Restlessly leaping striving
Up and elsewhere, inexorably
Static motion motionless.

Let mind gather frantic peace
Chilling calm, false and
Deathly expanding creeping
Out and everywhere, gravely
Quick silent acceptance.

Cross the inconceivable distance –
Grasp the welcome shock –
Snuff out all the lights.

Nicole Best

Updates and Entreaties

November 18, 2013 § Leave a comment

Hello, beautiful readers!

As you may have noticed, I’ve been MIA for a few months. The semester got really crazy busy and there were (and still are until Friday) exams and this has been my least enthusiastic semester thus far. I needed a break from the self-imposed blogging obligations.

I have tried to keep posting stuff as I write it, though, and to my total surprise you guys have still been reading my posts. I’ve been averaging around 20 views a day even with my sporadic posting of odd and sometimes entirely miserable little poems. You’re all brilliant. 🙂

Now that I’ve got some free time on my hands I’d like to try to blog a little more regularly again. The question is really…what would you like me to blog about? More sordid poetry? More beauty product reviews? More random make-up? More rants and opinions and entertaining shit like that?

I would love it if you’d all be so kind as to leave a comment on this post and let me know what I should write about to make you happy. I’m free all of December and I aim to please. 😉


November 16, 2013 § Leave a comment

I saw him cry once (and after that again)
Eyes clamped tight against that overwhelming rush – burning, I imagine
And then later, wide and distant, focused elsewhere, inward, outward, everywhere.

We lie on the bed together in the dead
Summer’s heat, after a day full of irritations
Clammy and hopelessly uncomfortable
In our own skins, and he rolls closer and
Kisses me; his lips are cool and present.

To argue with him is to spin the earth backwards. It just builds sometimes, pressure shaking foundations and slithering through cracks. Screaming feels good; when he screams back, better.

He skips through the music disdainfully while he drives, eyes on the road, ears on the sound. I feel like I’m intruding on a vital moment. His independence radiates in the still space.

In the silence under sacred blankets, I am awake. He reaches for me, entire body grasping ’til we touch all over. His face against my neck in his half-sleep is right.
I could never live without this, I think.

Nicole Best

Where Am I?

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