CMello7110

You appear, black and white, the colors of my trade; A simple outline, no opinions or unique thoughts. I slowly alter you to fit into the mold my mind has created; Tall, not particularly muscular, brown, a slight limp on one side. Why you’re like this, nobody knows, You just are. I find my color palate and open it. The watery crimson is spread over your undamaged leg; Passion is the leg that stands for what is right. The other leg limps under the blue weight of sadness, Crippled by the broken trust and loss you’ve endured. Purple fear drips from the butterflies, Fluttering endlessly inside the cage of your middle. A deep green f

HOLY SHIT, I thought as Kyoya told me of me requests for the day. Princess Ayanokoji had requested me? Oh my god, gah, cute girl. My brain was short circuiting. “Ryo? Are you alright?” Kyoya asked, a look of slight worry on his face. “Oh, um… Yeah I’m fine! Absolutely great!” I said, awkwardly scratching the back of my head. Kyoya glanced at me for a second. Deciding I was fine, he walked away to talk with the others. I smile, internally squealing like a four-year-old. Ok, calm down, I was fine. This was just another job. Cool? Cool. I walked over to my station and sat, tapping my foot in anticipation.

The calm of silence, pleading for a final answer. The tears that hold all the light in your eyes fall away. The known comfort suddenly slips out of reach, Growing cold as time falls apart. The fire’s ashes float with the eastern winds. Remembering the time before, the feeling of being alive. Friendship dies with the fading sun. You scream your song to the darkened sky. Passion is gone with the dying breath, lungs strained. I pass away, watching as you seep into the dark. The last whisper, the last request. “Let’s go home”

My brain drips down my throat, Full of tears from the ones I’ve lost. My muscles scream with the pain I’ve felt, My non-existent bullet holes. My lungs collapse, Under the pressure from my ribcage. My stomach eats itself, Never satisfied until it consumes everything. My heart shatters into millions of pieces, Each piece a different dead hope. When I die, they will put me in a coffin Made of wood or stone, it doesn’t matter, For I am already rotting inside my own coffin of skin and bone.

     For the next week, I worked for the club doing little errands and fetching the crazy props they needed for stuff. I hadn’t actually seen them host yet, but today I was going to visit during hosting hours.     After school was over, I made my way up to the music room and opened the doors. This time, the room was full of girls. I didn’t think there were this many girls in the school, but here they are, screaming and kyaa-ing all over the place. I spotted Tamaki at the same time he spotted me. He smiled and beckoned me over.     “Ah, there you are Ryo! I wanted you to meet someone. This is Princess Ayanokoji, one of my

Tamaki raced down the hallway towards his class. Oh no, I'm gonna be late!, he worried. But, it was worth it to see Haruhi in her costume for today. Their club was sporting a fiesta theme. They had sombreros to wear, typical mariachi band outfits, and, of course, a piñata filled with candy for Honey. Haruhi, much to her dismay, would be wearing a wig with long curly locks and a big red dress with lots of ruffles at the bottom. She tried it on this morning and Tamaki spent half an hour fussing over her and going into his mind theater. Eventually this had made him late for class. Almost there. He turned the corner. He saw his classroom a

  It was my first day at my new school, Ouran Academy. It was very pink, looking more like the girl’s section in Babies R US than a serious school. But to me this whole school was a joke. My family had decided I wasn’t headed in the best direction at my old high school, so they transferred me. I didn’t want to be here, I really didn’t, but I guess I had no choice. The first thing I did when I got there was change into the blue suit that was the boy’s uniform. My family bought me the bright yellow one, but it was the ugliest color I had ever seen in my life. You couldn’t pay me to wear that.  I spent the d

They are the shadows. The undying feeling that we are not alone, When all logic tells us that we are. The darkened butterflies, Trying to crawl and scratch their way out Of the acidic hell that is your stomach. The strings of lies and hurt, Climbing up your throat, Making you gag as it escapes from you. Splattered ink on the white canvas of the world, Seeping through until they stain forever. Mother Nature’s mistake, They are abominations Only welcome in the hell we’ve built. But they is we, Even if shapes are different, The material is the same. We are the demons, And this is our hell.