myOtaku.com: sailorcrystal

myO Still <3's You

Vitals

Birthday
• 1991-01-05
Gender
• Female
Location
• throughout the vast infosphere network
Member Since
• 2004-05-05
Occupation
• metal collecter
Real Name
• Nazo or what most of my friends call me...Dracula..

Personal

Achievements
• pulling myself apart for others, achieving peace with myself
Anime Fan Since
• 5, ( sailormoon 1st aired)
Favorite Anime
• descendents of darkness, tsubasa,chrono crusade, FMA, rurouni kenshin,fruits basket,naruto,trigun, full moon,aria,ghost in the shell, clamp works, and others
Goals
• collect even more manga, and rid the world of my misfortunate cousin
Hobbies
• reading, collecting manga, sometimes writing poems, and collecting pieces of metal.
Talents
• expressing emotion in the ocassional poem, and serious devotion and loyalty

myOtaku.com: sailorcrystal

Sunday, May 13, 2007

Faci
The metallic boom shakes the sky, it's already on the verge of breaking.
The drops hail thudding upon rooftops in rhytm like bullets everything about
the scene is scaring schoolyard children. However, at this moment none of it
matters for all my senses are in overdrive permanently.

With the ebony f low overhead, on the concrete slab I reside when you
so bright and bold sauntered on the scene blinding the monotone crowd.
Blow it all away, you bounce into free spot right by my form. The smoke
and ash made the air heavy, barely was I breathing.

Flipping pages the ashy wind blows nonchalantly, around that form is an air
of intense concentration. You so bright and bold now perched and watching,
move closer to close the space as if troublesome. The point where you form
meets with my knees.

At this inspoken violation I glare in mild annoyance, while you in return give a
guilty smirk. As seconds strech the smirk dies off such as curling ash off of cigarettes
replaced by some unsated frustration. Without any iota of warning grasp my shoulders
in iron grip pulling foward in impaitent jerk.

My ashy book falls closed to the earth below, and with shock electricity pulses
between two forms. Within the tick of the clock upon a crooked wall all passes
and you relax your hold almost letting go. The metallic boom shakes the sky and
tears fell soaking us to the bone however niether moves.

Our senses on delicious overide, not even feeling in the barest hint.
Thuder and light spark across the heavenly canvas as pulse quickens
and intensity becomes innocence.
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