Alone again, Naturally. I"you'll never be good enough, you were never my child, you were never my daughter, your father died at the sight of you. I wish you to hell and back, throw the photo's away he's gone now."slamming my photo's to the floor, The sound of memories scattering across the floor over shadows the turbulence sounds of detached stepfather, wishing for my downfall, all the things I'll never be, see and do. Just because.This old photograph / my hands tremble.I was a baby and he held me in his arms as I rested my head on his shoulders.. I still remember the faint sound of his whispering lullaby in my ears, rubbing my eyes because closing them mean
And I like this so much. Light and airy and happy. You truly do draw what you feel.