She walks up the steps onto the bus, and almost as if by habit she looks straight at him. She goes and sits next to him, a smile playing on her face as she says “Hey.” He looks at her and smiles. He says a greeting in return.
She shivers from the cold outside, despite wearing an overcoat while he just wore a jacket. He laughed and asked, “Are you cold?” She nodded, laughing as well. She liked being around him, even if she could be happy for just that moment, it was all worth it. She looks at him from the corner of her eye, wondering what he’s thinking.
Does he think about me when we are apart? Does it really matt
The ink slips down,
an empty page.
The next page of
my story.
What I write, no one will see.
It’s not who I want to be.
I don’t want to be remembered
by the smile on my face,
or my delicate hands.
Nor will you remember me,
by the art I made,
the stories I wrote,
or the books I read.
My mirror mimics me.
The me no one sees.
My smile is forced,
My life a wreck.
Who wants to remember,
a suicidal freak?
But,
There was someone,
There are people.
I am a butterfly,
Weak, yet strong.
I am a true smile,
They’ve seen my eyes light up,
like the neon lights.
I want to be remembered for them,
For what they built me to be.
Not th
She walks up the steps onto the bus, and almost as if by habit she looks straight at him. She goes and sits next to him, a smile playing on her face as she says “Hey.” He looks at her and smiles. He says a greeting in return.
She shivers from the cold outside, despite wearing an overcoat while he just wore a jacket. He laughed and asked, “Are you cold?” She nodded, laughing as well. She liked being around him, even if she could be happy for just that moment, it was all worth it. She looks at him from the corner of her eye, wondering what he’s thinking.
Does he think about me when we are apart? Does it really matt
The ink slips down,
an empty page.
The next page of
my story.
What I write, no one will see.
It’s not who I want to be.
I don’t want to be remembered
by the smile on my face,
or my delicate hands.
Nor will you remember me,
by the art I made,
the stories I wrote,
or the books I read.
My mirror mimics me.
The me no one sees.
My smile is forced,
My life a wreck.
Who wants to remember,
a suicidal freak?
But,
There was someone,
There are people.
I am a butterfly,
Weak, yet strong.
I am a true smile,
They’ve seen my eyes light up,
like the neon lights.
I want to be remembered for them,
For what they built me to be.
Not th
Yes, I haven't posted in ages. I'm still alive though, I've just been posting my drawings to facebook. I will post my latest drawings, about 3 or 4 of them, and if you would like to keep up with me, please go to my facebook page. Thanks! ^_^
https://www.facebook.com/darksnowpage?ref=hl <<< My art
https://www.facebook.com/DarkSnow24Dreams <<< Me
Hello my friends and fans! I need some help...
I need help desgning clothes for new characters I have. Do you guys/gals know any helpful websites, or have any ideas for me? It would be a great help!
And, another thing....
Does anyone have tips for me? I draw with pencil, or charcoal and sometimes colored pencils. Does anyone have tips for using these tools to greater outcomes?
Thanks for reading, and I hope someone replies.
~DarkSnow
A.K.A Selena* Aviles
Stolen from: Jel0e (https://www.deviantart.com/jel0e)
Feel free to steal.
~~~~~~~~~
Let's play a game.
Here's how you play:
Send me a note with something you always wanted to tell me. There is only one rule.
I CAN'T REPLY.
Please mark it with a * in the title so I know it is part of this.