Articles written by C. L. Nicolussi

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About me - C. L. Nicolussi

I'm an aspiring novelist, who's very good at short stories, and who is currently working as a secretary. I work everyday to improve my vocabulary and my understanding of all things. I hope to one day be as acclaimed as Anne Rice or Laurell K Hamilton.

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Creative Writing > Memoirs Memoirs: Why I write: 6 of 244

It's amazing, this thing called an imagination. No other creature on the planet has it. Some people don't even have it. I'm blessed with a fertile, or what some would call 'over-active' mind's eye. I think too much, I over-analize nearly every situation, I drive people crazy with the way I think. I talk too much, sometimes I...
Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Letting go: 53 of 191

I watch the tears drip down my wrist I watch the blood run down my cheeks And I wonder Where is it that I belong? This broken puppet freak? Is it by your side? I watch the water flood my veins I watch the blood fill up the tub And I wonder Where is it that I should be? This broken porcelain doll? Is it at your feet? Master? ...
Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Beauty: 81 of 256

His eyes are an icy blue, Absorbing the grey of his anger, Or the bright blue of his happiness. His hair is dirty blond. His skin is light, soft. His chest is strong, comforting. His lips are warm and welcoming. He is my angel, my everything. He is my creator, my lover, My breath, my master my heart, my soul. He is my beauty...
Creative Writing > Short Stories Short stories: Insomnia: 4 of 9

Tick tock, tick tock. I swear the clock was mocking me. Three AM. Three o'one. Three o'two. I'd been staring at the clock for an eternity and only a few minutes had gone by. The house was heavy with the silence of sleepers. I was the only one awake. Even the kitten curled at my feet was purring softly in a happy kitten dream...
Creative Writing > Short Stories Short stories: A night in New York CIty: 1 of 2

It was cold again. Bitter cold. That dirty snow that made me hate the city was falling, and my breath was pluming out of my mouth in huge clouds of steam. It looked almost like I was smoking the cigarette I hadn't been able to light. I'd forgotten my lighter at home, you see. On a night when even its little flicker of warmth...
Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Describe yourself: 148 of 269

Pretty hazel eyes Soft white skin A bleeding heart A naive turn of the cheek. I am the sad child I am a failed experiment I am a monster I am the product of a lost humanity. Twisted and broken Shattered and bleeding I am hurting more than should be possible I am dying slower than should be allowed. Pierced through the heart ...
Creative Writing > Short Stories Short stories: Vampires: 73 of 127

"Gabriel!" Ruth gasped. He had thrown open her front door, the wind whipping, rain lashing into her parlor. With only the moon to back-light his ravaged silhouette, he resembled the creature from the black lagoon. "Gabriel, what happened to you!?" Running to him, she took his hand and led him deeper into the house, to the ba...
Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Loneliness: 530 of 541

Solitude... I try to forget your pretty face Your lovely smile and all your reason I try to forget this place Your silly thoughts and your seasons But every time I turn around I see you In someone else's eyes. I know about all the lies But I still ache for you Your touch and your eyes Your lips and your lies. I would ignore ...