Nicole Johnson

Category: poetry

  • Until dawn 

    This pounding within my chest,  An outrage that shall not rest.  Pixilated images of stones thrown to Juliette’s moonlit shadow.  Dawn has risen as the owl zones in on its final  mouse.   A drum goes off and my heart beats swiftly.  An anger of ill-importance that’s never received due process. 

  • Sneak peak : Book 2 on the rise

         It has been a few months since my dad and I moved from the east coast. I wasn’t quite sure what was going to happen when I moved here, or if I would like it. I had gotten used to the hostility of the people in the city…

  • Incognito

    Sitting beneath the warm rays of the sun, I gaze up to the breeze as it runs its waves though the ribbons of my hair. I’ve ached to feel this. The feeling of being so high, I’ve risen above it. We sit here, our hands entangled and our eyes locked.…

  • Mirage

    Its deep within her stomach That feeling of unease—slowly unraveling. She stands in the mirror and the imposter stares back at her. Dirt begins to seep through her pores as the glass sinks into veins. She can’t quite be herself while someone else is in the driver’s seat. Looking in…

  • Peddle to the medal

    The wind began to blow through tightly woven curls. Her mind laced with heavy thoughts that only time could erase. Two souls wandered between eras of which ached for resolution.

  • Word vomit

    hit me, like a brick of heavy lidded thoughts—These asinine tendencies of obscenities. Words flow through me in a place I can not erase of an image I dare not share. They’ve transpired with visions of despair. I am trapped inside a line of heavy duty tape with caution signs.

  • Clarity

    Waking to the gentle grimace of the daylight star. It glistens through the curtain like a gentle fairy that listens. A welcomed hiss from lungs that served its purpose. The sound of a lover’s snore fills ears with a shivered kiss.

  • Blackened corridor

    Some nights she wakes to the cold sweats of dementia. Petrified of present surroundings; where is she? The sweat dribbles down her neck in the essence of solitude. He stood in the corner shadowed by his own darkness as he watched her drown.

  • Tranquility cloak

    With these fingers, I release you. Release all of your worries and self-doubts into the sea of wallowing tranquility. With these palms I anchor you to my chest as we exhale our sorrows and ease into rest. With these eyes I sought protection from all of the unseen and endless…

  • The oblivion

    Standing on the edge of the oblivion. We are so high. So afraid to jump and yet afraid to move closer to the cusp of tomorrow. Grasping each other’s hands, a gentle squeeze no longer. We hold on to the memories with the will of a thousand strangers. Not a…