My hand.
So exhausted, every part of it.
Inch of it.
The traces of fingerprints I left in people life.
They don't fade away.
Every cut, every wound that swam deeper.
Was history.
Well made.
The pain was crack to my palms.
Fingers were swollen.
So exhausted, every part of it.
Inch of it.
The traces of fingerprints I left in people life.
They don't fade away.
Every cut, every wound that swam deeper.
Was history.
Well made.
The pain was crack to my palms.
Fingers were swollen.
