I can't draw another beginning. Another childhood of the world.
The world that died was a child.
It used to hold me with its little fingers.
My hands are a map of pain.
Background: a survivor who has lost her child.
I can't draw another beginning. Another childhood of the world.
The world that died was a child.
It used to hold me with its little fingers.
My hands are a map of pain.
Background: a survivor who has lost her child.