Nicole Johnson

  • The perfect stranger

    Once it’s gone, it’s hard to grasp. We chase after it like bees to honey. Forever stuck in a maze filled with misery. Every word they say suddenly becomes blocks of ice that protect us from shattering. Those three words used to mean something.

  • Northern Star

    Her voice inched above an inaudible whisper, as the tears began to fall. She held him close and the emotions began to flow. The lake’s current hastened as it drained into the river of an overflown ocean of salted inhibitions. It was uncontrollable.

  • When saying ‘no’ isn’t enough

    She told herself that this could never happen to her. She didn’t wear clothes that showed too much skin or flirt with strange men. All she had to do was say no, but the words were trapped between her lips. Why couldn’t she stop him?

  • Life as I know it

    I grew up in a military family. My father served 41 years,coursing various branches and retired when I was 3 years old. We had an inseperable bond. We did pretty much everything together. My mom got me up in the morning, but my dad took me to school and picked…

  • Letter to the past

    Some days I wake up and ponder the meaning of life. I often sit and contemplate events of the past and ask myself “what if…” What if I had tried harder, would we have survived? What if I had known sooner, could I have stopped the spiral and forgiven the…

  • Check, please

    We sat in the corner, sheltered from the rain. It hit us like a bomb of fractured stones. It was you that taught me that it was possible to love again. The dust from the souls of wingless angels chaffed my skin. Your words cut through me, seeping into my…

  • Letter to a soldier

    Some days, I sit back and watch you. The emotions displayed on your face, of shock and awe and yet you say nothing. You were taught to be strong and keep on trucking. You were taught to go toward the fire and fight the flames. Some days I wonder how…

  • On the road

    I remember that day as if it happened yesterday. My throat raw from screaming as the tears remained streaky. My chest was heaving as the imaged played slowly. Lie after fed lie was and I had a mouthful on our road to destruction. Not a single worry in sight, my…

  • Wings

    I’d like to dedicate this poem to my niece Christina Mitchell, who battled breast cancer and lost her battle this morning. She is survived by her husband and beautiful little girl. This year has been especially hard for me, and cancer has weaved its way through it. It is so…

  • Return to sender

    She remembered that day like it were yesterday. His hands on her body and she couldn’t speak. The way he half caressed her, kneading, stalking. Her mind was fuzzy and vision blurry. It replayed over in her mind so clearly. She couldn’t move. Her body paralyzed. She couldn’t breathe.