Kumochi-White-Tiger

I have gazed upon you Often from afar Knowing that you are unattainable I have to hide my feeling for you Like a lid to a box that must not be opened Cover the forbidden with a mask I can never let those feelings show Falling from the hidden stars Are black rose petals covered in blood Staining your perfect face and hands I am the holder of these rose petals I have corrupted your perfection Please stay away from me I plead For you are my flawless, perfect angel I find myself longing for you Even though you are an impossible dream A figure in a wonderful world The one attached to my broken soul Knowing that nothing will sep

Kumochi felt eyes on her. "Shouldn't you be studying?"she asked him without looking up from her notebook. Her pencil continued to move swiftly across the page. "Hn," he said looking back at the scrolls in front of him. Kumochi chuckled to herself and reread the words she had written. If I am the Masochist Does that mean you are the sadist? Because you cause me so much pain Yet I keep coming back to you So I must like the pain you inflict So I am the masochist, I guess The loneliness hurts me inside Since I am the masochist I must enjoy it, but I do not The pain fells like fiery nails Scraping across my bare skin It hurts more

Her training consisted of making him run laps. They were not normal laps. Normal laps you could take breaks maybe even slow down. Kumochi was ruthless. She did not let him rest once. Finally, not able to run anymore, Sasuke collapsed. Sweat poured down his face. He closed his eyes. In between his gasping breathes, he chuckled. If Sakura and the other fangirls saw me now, they would probably not even attempt to get close to me. He thought. And if they did Kumochi sensei would probably eat them. Something cold and wet was dumped on his body. He sighed at the drastic change of temperature. He opened his eyes and saw Kumochi sensei drinking

She woke up and looked at the clock. She sighed it was a more reasonable hour but still too early to wake Sasuke up. So instead, she went down the hallway to the small outdoor garden she had made.  She started to tend her roses. “Awake already, Kumochi-chan?” a voice asked. Kumochi looked up and started to rise. Orochimaru-sama shook his head. He looked at the roses. “They are doing remarkably well.” He commented bending down to smell one of the roses. “Yes, it is surprising.”  She said. “You are going to need to wake him soon.”  He said. “Yes, Orochimaru-sama,” She said. She pic

A younger version of Kumochi looked around the dark corridors. Kumochi was ten years old and had the appearance of a seventeen year old.  Kumochi had three very powerful clan traits flowing through her veins. She was Akumu, Musei, and an unknown clan. Kumochi claimed that she didn’t know what it was but she was lying.  Akumu could give people dreams and through this power the memories and abilities are passed down. Musei are changelings and the ones that are born with animal body parts develop much faster than normal. A door opened, Kumochi squinted against the bright light.  Itachi was standing the doorway. The words of her mother ec

He stared at it and felt his own curse mark. She felt his eyes on her. She turned around and glared at him. She moved her hand to cover it. “Will you mind your own business?” she growled. “Hn,” he said. She rolled her eyes and entered her room. After, she left Sasuke’s presence she sighed. Why does Orochimaru always use my clan name when we have guests? She asked silently. She closed the door and Chishio meowed at her. Kumochi sat down. “You don’t like him either I take it?” Kumochi asked Chishio. Chishio shook her head. “He has no respect for authority. He didn’t even bow to Oroch

Instinctively I tighten the knot That fastens my blindfold around my eyes The blindfold covers my eyes protecting me From the cold, cruel, harsh, bitterness That always awaits me when I open my eyes So one day I decided to stop To stop opening my eyes So I fashioned myself a blindfold Sewed together by the thread of deceit Cut from the fabric of shame Trimmed by the shears of denial The needle of anguish dipping Back and forth through the fabric Until my blindfold was finally complete I remember holding the fabric In my hands all those years ago The silky texture against my skin A comforting change from the roughness Of the

In the dark of my immortal life I remember the words that cut like a knife I wish I could take them back Tear the white from the black Think before you say or act Think before you sign the pact Anger flows from every vein All is agony, despair and pain You have controlled me With your pitiful looks hoping I will not see What you’re doing to me; not caring who you hurt Treating us as if we were only dirt I shall not begin a tirade When you dance around me in a triumphant parade You dance around my body cold and dead You are the one who severed my head Just wait, I will come back for you I will haunt you until you are clo

Use the glass mask to show Everyone what is already there Show them the perfection That they have been seeking Let the glass mask blur All the flaws visible So they once shouted freak Now they shout my name They praise the work of art That this glass mask has created The living breathing work of art Who is caged in a glass display Do not hide; do not fear The spotlight, the crowds, the attention They cannot see your shortcomings You are a goddess, an idol, an angel Perfect and flawless at least To their ever judging eyes The glass mask makes you Something that you are not The ultimate pretender The gorgeous model The dre

This red rose petal will be the last To fall from my broken arm I promise I will shed no more tears For I will endure when all is passed I will forever be safe from all harm Safe from all, as long as no one nears Away from any pain I crawl Hiding from those who will hear my call I tell you this cannot be true I cannot be numb through and through There must be one part that still weeps Perhaps it is buried inside the deeps I am motionless statue stone cold Unmoving, unflinching; no fear or dread Blood and pain are my obsession To me both are worth more that gold Seeing white turn into red I tell you this is not a confession o