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Pocky Tail A fanfic
It was true that the floor was not the most comfortable place to try and finish cram school homework, but Rin Okumura managed it quite well with only an ugly brown pillow under his elbows. He grunted with triumph as he finished the last question about 17th century demons. That was all the assignments he needed to finish before history and pharmaceuticals tomorrow. Yawning, Rin glanced warily back and forth before digging a paperback book from under his pillow. With its pink spine and syrupy title "No Light Without You", Rin's reading choice would have been a little strange to some, but he happily opened to the rabbit eared page he had left off on before Yukio pestered him into finishing his work. In the background, the shower shuttered to a stop.
Rin was far to engrossed in his boys love comic to pay attention as his "study buddy", the tough guy Ryuji, exited the bathroom, drying his black and yellow faux hawk with
Lost and FoundLost and Found
Here I am walking around aimlessly
Scars surround every part of my body
Lies are all that I seem to know
Tears no longer come out
Just the supreme silence
I walk for what seems to be forever
I lose the strength that I have to stand
I was done, I was done with trying
I wanted to sit and rot
But there you were
The flickering light in my hurt eyes
You came for me...came running
At this close to dead corpse
You whispered thoughts of hope- often true thoughts
It was never merely flattery, and overreacted words
Nor was it fake for secret intentions
It was honest, kind, true
You are the only one that makes me feel this way
Because you are the first one you found ME
I want desperately to say I love you my friend
You help in me in so many ways.
-March 2, 2012-
Volpi.You will find that the story you tell
is very rarely your own. In Lucca,
even the smallest pebbles
breathe in the warm sunlight.
Knotted stones and cobbled roads
beat out a paper-dry heartbeat heat
my city breathes in and out,
inhales sparrow air.
It's writing a story.
You are the pen.
You will find that in Lucca
the daisy chains forge fire
in side streets and back alleys.
Teenagers intertwine. Tell me,
odd flower, are you still closed?
Here we are colored wax;
the heat of the city melts us.
We run into each other, rhapsody
of pigments. Operas are our specialties.
Open up; feel the reds.
If not, try and see them. There is a place
of deep knife marks, a street
long as midnight
you may learn something there.
Valentina's voice glimmers like red wine.
You may enjoy intoxications. Still,
know alcohol has no story
and will swallow your own.
Find the sign with the wolf on it.
You'll know the place. Epiphanies ring true as church-bells.
Lucca still guides the wanderers
to well sp
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