The Old Friend

Nicole Lyons

I have missed you and our time together,
and I want you to know that I am sorry
our paths took us in different directions
and never really left a moment for us
to consider how that happened anyway.
I wish life and old promises had
a reset button, I’d push that button
until my thumbs bled, if only for the chance
to tell you that I have always wanted you
to be happy and ever so loved,
even though I believed you were wasting
your life and your love on someone
who would never prove himself worthy
enough to deserve it, not to me anyway.
And if I’m being honest, probably not
to anyone who has know your heart
and loved your soul.
You see, my friend, two things can
be true at one time, and sometimes
those two things will contradict each other,
but what is light without…

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Faucets To West – Nicole Lyons

Sudden Denouement Collective

I am not a good woman.
I am sons upon light years,
daughters making hard love
with blue moons and every
wish on every fallen star
cast forth through double-panes
on lonely Friday nights
like the ones you swore you would
never relive again.
I am not a good woman.
I tuck my dreams in at night now,
behind balconies not yet barred
until our youngest heart decides
she is not yet a good woman
and scales the walls we have built
to keep her in and safe, and completely
ignorant and pure.
I am not a good woman.
But I am here still, hiding
in the bushes on the corner of our
1/4 acre dream lot,
the dream yard
of the dream home
we have signed our souls away for.
I am not a good woman.
And every time I turn faucets west
and soak the morning in glory

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Her

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The only thing worse
than laying there without him,
was laying there with him.
There was a clock,
grinding away slowly
on the bedside table,
its minutes seemed
to last an eternity
while bodies twisted
and turned in agony,
moving further away
from each other in a house
draped in silence,
where laughter once
echoed through the rooms.
There were memories
scattered everywhere
but they were gazed
upon with disdain,
so we packed them
away in cardboard boxes
and never spoke of them again.
I would trade it all you know,
those wasted years,
for a few smiling memories
I could display proudly
on some mantle
in a beautiful home
filled with something
other than regret.
I would take it all back,
every look, every word,
every touch, every memory,
every single thing but one,
one perfect thing
that blossomed
within the misery.
Her.
I would spend
a thousand lifetimes
exactly the same way
for her.

She Beckons Me

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She’s almost here again,
and with her arrival
all becomes brand new.
The air is different,
it smells of life,
and hopeful promises
dance on the horizon.
I feel her coming closer
and I wake with strength renewed,
but it is she who carries me
through my glorious summers.
And just like clockwork,
as the sun sets in a late autumn sky,
he comes calling again.
There’s a bed of broken promises,
where he lays himself upon me
and I drift away to darkness,
as he sucks the strength
from all my bones.
Seduced by his tragic lullaby,
I will bury myself beneath him,
until once again she beckons me,
with a beautiful hello.

A Sliver of Silver – Nicole Lyons

Sudden Denouement Collective

I always made sure
our house was clean
even though we never were.
And I always made sure
the moon had a sliver to peer into,
a little slat between the pavement
and my pillow where she would feel
welcomed to lay her silver smile
upon our sleepless nights
and find us charmed enough
to dim her light when the sun came
to taunt us in the morning.
I am cleaner now,
than any porcelain corner
I spewed myself into,
but I still get high
off her manic energy when she tells me
she is happy to share,
because something is in the air
right now, in the full silver moon,
and I drink it all down as if it was my own.

Nicole Lyons is a writer/editor for Sudden Denouement and the creator of The Lithium Chronicles.

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The Keeper of Time

Nicole Lyons

I swear to God, I am not proud of it,
this wishing and unwishing,
and the wishing and unwishing of more,
as if that could make these things be something
or nothing, or take them all away,
or even add a maybe to them all.
This wishing and unwishing is killing me.
If I could go back and take it all back,
or change it all I would,
God help me, I would.
There are so many things I would change
and so many things I couldn’t,
and wouldn’t, and would never want to,
but if I started to change one thing,
I would never stop.
I would wish to be the keeper of time
to whisper my secrets to you,
and we would sit beyond time and I would tell you,
“you can change this. I have kept your time.
I have kept your seconds.
I have kept your…

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Chicken Dinner – Nicole Lyons

Sudden Denouement Collective

We crossed that bridge
the second you came upon it,
beach blankets soaked
and the lovers’ notes
carved a generation before us
had seemed entirely too heavy
until that night when I sat down
to undercooked chicken and overcooked rice
served with an unconditional side of love.
And I remember feeling sorry for the chicken
at that moment in all of my wise teenage years,
and having an epiphany right there
at the dinner table next to an alcoholic
control freak who called me stepdaughter
and walked upon me to seal it
like the gummy flap of an envelope
stuffed with unloved letters,
and a mother who wore exhaustion
hidden inside her navy pumps.
Death, no matter how it is served
will always precede dinner
unless breakfast beats it to lunch.
And I thought myself wise beyond my years
in that moment, still warm
from the glow of your summer…

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Once Upon A Time

Nicole Lyons

I am standing here, screaming,
“I live, I live. I love.”
and they are laughing as you dig in
to this pile of bullshit,
shovels full of our own wasted lives.
Oh, if we all could live,
right and good like stories
filled with mighty conquests
and happier endings.
My feet are covered in this waste,
wishes treading the water
that has been pissed out of finer souls
than we could ever hope to be.
We should hope less and dig more,
there are treasures to be found
beneath the pile of golden souls
who would think well enough
to shit outside the gates of their own
once upon a time.

© Nicole Lyons 2017

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Her Belt

Nicole Lyons

I wonder if she thought of me
when she cinched her belt,
and if she had to punch
extra holes in the leather
before she did it,
and if it was real leather
or as fake as we were.
I wonder these things,
and quickly follow up
my wondering with more,
like why I am this way,
and if I was the one
who handed her that belt
when I walked into her life
and took it from her.
Living feels hard
when death comes calling,
whispering names
that sound like yours,
but dying seems easy
when life comes calling,
shouting names
that should have been hers.
And maybe that is why
I wonder about that fucking belt
more than anything else.
That belt would have served me better,
holding up the weight of this life
she would have lived
fuller than I have.

© Nicole Lyons 2017

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