Thanks for participating everyone, lets see who won :woohoo:
And the lucky number is:
Congrats KrazyKatherine (https://www.deviantart.com/krazykatherine) :D
Just a small note, I'll do this again with my original style when I'm done with my regular commissions ;)
Raffle? Is that the correct word? Anyway, those of you that follow my polls know that I wanted to do something special for my 300k pageviews. And after... I think it was for 150k, when I was giving 3 months of premium, there were like 3 or 4 winners ( and I didn't have enough points ^^; ) I will do this with raffle instead (because there will be only one winner, a lot more people will have a chance to win, plus theres
Her name is Susan. Her eyes are never the same color. Sometimes brown, sometimes green, and sometimes gray. She rarely smiles, but when she does, it is a small, wary smile... And if you look closely you can see the chips in her porcelain mask.
Her name is Susan, and her eyes are the color of ghosts. She rarely smiles, but when she does it is filled with hope and renewal and pain. She wears her scars like a passport, marking where she's been.
Her name is Susan, and her eyes are the color of wretched memories. She rarely smiles, but when she does it is fierce and loyal and brave. She is my best friend.
You'd think it'd be easier to hug people with eight arms.
As much as they poke around in the conversation, that old disconnect between feeling and brain kicks in
leaving me to watch and analyze every movement of yours and of mine
hoping desperately for some familiar pattern to suction myself to.
And it's tough trying to make friends with a face like this.
They always say I look alien, perhaps fearsome, but behind the unblinking eyes
I'm just a spineless old softie with two hearts too many,
none of which do that great of a job anyways.
I still don't understand how parrots talk so fluently through a beak; I can't.
It's too sharp and embarr
1. you are stronger than you think
and when you tell other people this,
do not be offended when they start talking about muscle mass.
they will not understand until they wake up
one day and are disappointed to find themselves
2. reading books about thin people
doesn’t make you thin
just like writing poems about happiness
doesn’t make you happy.
3. make new year’s resolutions. even if you know
they won’t last longer than the shower
you make them in, do it anyways because
you’ll love the idea of the person you were
washing off of you with the dirt.
4. you’re going to fall head over heels
Mooncalled, it burned like ice in my veins,
And I ran away from you, lured by the Winter.
Eyes flashed in the dark, but they were not my eyes,
Heart hunter, Soul Slayer, You flayed me raw.
And wore my pelt.
So I fled, away, away, back to wilddog nights,
And icy breath beneath the starlight.
You did not know who you were anymore.
Do you know who I am?
Does it fit you well?
I ran from your leash and your collar,
Your chains and shackles and fetters,
Back to where you could not find me,
Can you hear the coyotes sing tonight?
May it keep you warm.
Why did you hurt me? You know what you're doing, I see it in your eyes. The wicked fangs of your words bite deep, poison dripping from your lips. You flail me with silence, beat me with angry looks. Your soul burns! What did I do to deserve this? You are supposed to be my family, you are supposed to guard my back, you were supposed to protect me!
You knew what you did when you wrote those words. You dredged that memory to the surface, clawing and kicking, knowing that I would be the only one to see it, to understand! Why? You knew I trusted you. You spoke hollow, whispered words of comfort and warning against the others, and then at last, wh
The night was crystal clear and heartbreakingly beautiful. A thousand, thousand lights filled his vision, making the entirety of Paris glitter around him. Even the river reflected the lights, mingling with the stars trapped in its depths, making it look like a velvet ribbon shot through with gold and silver. It was almost enough to console Johan that he was never going to see it by daylight. Because how could the harsh light of day ever compare to the Parisian night? Every blemish and stain laid bare rather than decently cloaked by darkness. And while it would have been a dream come true to explore the world of Dumas and Hugo by daylight, to