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I have your number, SeabirdHis bathroom is small and bleak. The mirror
shows your reflection in seven colors which
haven't been named on the red-blue-yellow
spectrum. Your eyes are shaking like eggs
and he hasn't said your name in a year. You
think of everything he calls you: Jay, Jaybird,
Rose if he's playful. He told you particles of
every man he's slept with are in the carpet
when he pulled your head back to look into
your pupils. Your eyes are black. They run,
raw and rotten from fluorescence overhead.

He told you the shrooms weren't the same.
If you don't like LSD, you might feel better
trying something more natural. It grows
like marijuana: from the ground. But
i will rest by the river and bloomi have eaten so many cherries i have lost count,
my fingers bundled up with their stems, my teeth aching.
with the fruit flesh still threaded around them, the seeds
look like little organs, little stone hearts:
i eat them all, every one. maybe they will hatch in my stomach
like bitter eggs, and a thousand hundred giant trees will
grow slowly though my stomach and my bloodstream, maybe they will
burst up and out through my mouth. i will be a bleeding flowerpot,
a forest floor with shoes, an incubator. i will be the zombie
apocalypse of cherry trees. i will grow my wooden teeth through the roof.
my bad decisions will touch the sky.
what comes is better than what came beforea man, once,
of whom i am quite fond
for his green eyes
and olivine
skin,
came up to me and inquired
how he might look
with the barrel of a gun
in his mouth.

i said,
well,
you have
the cheekbones for it,
but i think
perhaps
you'd look better at
the bottom of the ocean
or with a rope around your
neck.

better still,
i continued,
lulled safely to sleep
in my arms
on a warm afternoon,
cherry red
lipstick stains
on your forehead

and
maybe even
a cat
on your lap.
JuniorFinally, an upperclassman
The year seems to fly by
As you wait for the coveted title of Senior
But you feel stuck
As your boyfriend is off at college
Experiencing
And you are still here
Waiting
And you want him to come back
And you hope he comes back
So you get promise rings
So he has to promise to come back
And sometimes he comes back every weekend
And sometimes not for a month
And sometimes promises are broken
And you are up until the early morning
Fighting
Meanwhile, you are suddenly aware of how
Different you are from everyone
All your friends are picture-perfect
Cookie-cutter representations of
The Ideal Teenager
And every morning, you
Queen of HypocrisyVixen, vixen, pretty little vixen. Why you be vexin'? You think you're so stunning, you think you're so mighty,
you think you're so clever, but really you're so naughty.
With coat as red as flame, and the visage of friendly appeal, you draw people in close
just so you could make them burn and kneel. Why, vixen, why are you so mean?
Do you really think so low of yourself you have to demean?

You speak philosophically, you speak like a sage, but your words are lies woven by the deranged.
You're modest upon sight, I'll give you that, but once people think they know you,
you strike and bite. You can't stand to be questioned, you have to be
The Stage of LifeThe lights flare up,
glaring at me,
accusing me;
sirens screaming their judgements.

I stand in front of the light,
made up on the stage of life.
The gun's in my hands,
the body's on the ground,
the blood's decorating the floor.

Tired, rehearsed shouts echo,
"You have the right to remain silent..."
"Please, son, can you tell me you didn't do it..?"
"anything you say can and will be used against you..."
"You've always been such a good boy,
tell the policeman the truth..."
"You're innocent until proven guilty."

You want the truth?
That wasn't in the script,
honesty was never written...

Do you expect me to spill,
explode with all these secret
FakeIn my mind,
I see the light.

The light shines in my eyes,
Causing me to be blind.

The blindness makes me see things,
Things like the future.

I feel dizzy,
My world is turning.

I see the light,
It blinks in my vision.

Oh, how I could’ve been good for you,
Don’t be so cruel to me.

People crowd around,
I want to see what’s going on.

Alas, I see a dreadful thing,
A boy is crying.

People are laughing,
Picking on him because he’s weak.

I push through the crowd,
Extending a hand towards him.

He smiles, grins with tears in his eyes,
He grabs my hand.

I pull him up and hug him,
I’m finally wanted.

Elements of ChangeWhat is it that makes this different?
Is the air different?
      What fills my lungs, is that the change?
What in this is not the same?
Is it the way my hair falls?
      What brushes my shoulders, is that the change?
What holds the alteration?
Is it in the steps down the street?
      What moves my being, is that the change?

No.
lily pads.I let you crack me open
and allowed your sadness
to fill my empty chest.

Tears; like sea salt
on my ribcage–

From the nourishment  
of your remorse,
flowers began to bloom
inside the crevice
of my breastbone.
Tick tockTick tock

Time is running out.

Don't you dare waste it.

Doesn't matter if you look.

Up,down left or right.

Won't cheat this time.

Stuck on a question I see.

Didn't you studied last night?

Tsk, tsk shame on you.

You see,i'm the clock that's hangs in every classroom.

Tick tock I am the clock.

Should I slow down for your sake?

Need more time?

No can do!

I wont wait for you.

I go slow, when you don't want to.

I go fast when you desperately need more.

Isn't it funny?

To see all your faces.

Stressing

Working

Nervous

And confused.

Tick tock minutes are seconds now.

Better scribble down your last answers

For I declare it is o
the writer's diseasemy conversations become
blurs of i-miss-you's
littered on the cold floor of empty promises.
you deserve something more than
silhouettes of words, casting shadows onto my heart
filling it with tricks of light
that try to hide away the darkness.

sit down and stay for a while--
except i'm going to go
because i never learned how to keep
the beautiful things
for more than a little at a time;

i'm left chain smoking words like cigarettes
one word after the other after the other,
exhaling them all with my cancer
and my thick, black lungs.

and they say a cigarette takes seven minutes
from your life--
yet these words take memories from mine,
str
TonightBlood-lust
Calls for war.
Swords and spears alike are
Sharp with eager destruction;
They rise into the air
In a sea of molded
Silver
While drunken
Monsters and men
Battle it out on the bloodstained
Battlefield,
Where death is as common
As a breath of rancid air.
And tonight,
Above the massacres,
The moon shines as
Bright as a supernova,
Burning up the sky with
It's flaming light.
It calls for howls of pain and fear
From the soldiers down
Below.
And tonight,
Drinking moonshine,
Even the werewolves will cry.
Story of Evil (Fairy Tail Ver)Hey guys! Haven't published something in ages! IM STILL ALIVE XD. I wanted to start a new story, even though I have like 4 other stories to do, I will be updating them very soon, maybe tomorrow. I will give you some info about my other stories.
The Demon boy and The Girl- Is still alive, I have written the chapter, but haven't got around uploading it. GOMENASAI .

Anyways... onto this one. I've been obsessed with Kagamine Rin and Len, well for a long time. And I LOVE THE STORY OF EVIL (if you dunno them, its like a bunch of songs that makes a sad story that I love) and I decided, why not make a Fairy Tail ver.
I've been in love with the songs
Winter PactBeneath the firmament of a dull white sky,
Three sons of the Earth trudged forth to a snowy hilltop,
So that the foremost among them may cry-
“Old Man Winter!”
“Old Man winter!”
“Why must ye be so bitter!?”
“My sons are fatigued and my daughters are cold,”
“They suffer from the wrath of your ire,”
“I would ask that your transgressions against us,”
“Cease if I may be so bold!”
 
A grey cloud formed in the sky,
Shifting itself into an old man’s face,
That was quick to reply-
“My transgressions shall not cease,”
“And you may not be s
Lost Memories: Chapter OneThe woman could only hold her stare for so long before she had to turn away. She wanted more than anything to talk to her sister, to know who was taking care of her. She glared at the stranger who held Emily in his arms before abruptly turning around and leaving, without so much as a word to them.

She began walking deep into the forest. Her mind was racing. What had happened since she became a proxy? How much of Emily's life had she missed? What was the girl's life like now? And, what was it going to be like? She witnessed the fire at the house. She could guess what was going to happen to the mother... Oh, God. Now her sister was alone again
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More from ^NicSwaner

Bitlets 66Bilingual cityscape skylines ask—
what is the opposite of 'nightlife?'

¿La muerte día o el día de los muertos?
Bitlets 65He has his mother's maternal instincts;
hereditary of single-parenting heritage.

she has the patience of a patron-saint;
an inheritance of a spousal carousel.

Together they made a name for poster children
separated from family.
Bitlets 64Head, shoulders, knees and toes.
Head, shoulders, knees... toes.

When beds hold her— she is only pheromones
Bitlets 63Calibrate the alibi sailorboy
because I'm landlocked too.
Bitlets 62You can't sing hakuna matatta
accapella, staccato or sforzando,
but a tactile tectonic Plato
re-publicizes his work load
on twitter; hashtags become
harsh marks on his book report.

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November 4, 2012
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Bitlets 36

:iconnicswaner:

The floor was covered in beer
thick enough to make shoes
comparable to flypaper.

Onstage the warmup act
was cutting a dude's hair
as the emcee led us
in chanting 'it grows back.'

And all I can think while
I describe this is how
— how in the hell were
they going to get the hair
to unstick from the floor?

I think I was more concerned
for my own hair at the time,
and not the cleanup crew.
:iconnicswaner:
Written 11/02/2012

Part of the Bitlets project.

About this Bitlet

Another poem about the Aesop Rock show at The Metro in Chicago. See the video of the dude braving the stage (Sean O'Brien) and getting his haircut to the song Racing Stripes, which is a song about getting a crazy haircut your parents would freak about when you were a kid. The second half of the song though is interesting though in that it is about rapper Camu Tao (pronounced with emphasis on all syllables :stare:) who died a few years back (RIP), but Aesop knew him well enough to compose a story about his hair escapades in a song. He explains that way better than I can here: Behind Skelethon: Racing Stripes

Browse Bitlets

Bitlets are about quantity, not quality. Free-write at least one a day about what is on your mind, going on around you, or the state of your life. Ignore the urge to edit; it's not about being profound on purpose, it's about stumbling on it by accident.

Bitlets 36 © 2012 Nic Swaner
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:icondisrhythmic:
*disrhythmic Nov 4, 2012
pronounced with emphasis on all syllables

CA MU TAO!

?

:la:
Reply
:iconnicswaner:
^NicSwaner Nov 4, 2012  Student Writer
People pronounce the "Tao" part wrong all the time, they think it's supposed to be a play on words and that's all it is... :grump:

It's pronounced like the tao in taoist.
Reply
:icondisrhythmic:
*disrhythmic Nov 4, 2012
Two syllables?
Reply
:iconnicswaner:
^NicSwaner Nov 4, 2012  Student Writer
the tao in taoist is pronounced as one syllable. :facepalm:

It sounds like this: OW! You make-a mah brain hurt.
Reply
:icondisrhythmic:
*disrhythmic Nov 4, 2012
NO, YOU. That's how I -thought- it was pronounced and seeing as you think caner and canner sound the same EXCUSE ME FOR MAKING SURE. :XD:
Reply
:iconnicswaner:
^NicSwaner Nov 4, 2012  Student Writer
:stare: FUMING
Reply
:icondisrhythmic:
*disrhythmic Nov 4, 2012
-pets you-
Reply
:iconnicswaner:
^NicSwaner Nov 4, 2012  Student Writer
I couldn't help but stifle a laugh goddamn you.
Reply
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