#jenecomprendspas

We just listened to your new song in French. We’re here if you need help with pronunciation.

Best,

I want to write a novel, and it goes like this.

When I was born, I was a baby. I didn’t understand what anyone was saying. I couldn’t say anything for months. I was cold, and I missed the thumping of my mother’s heart more than anything.

My skin was brown. My lips were dry. I wanted to cry, and to laugh, and I was so tired that my head could not be held up by the feeble muscles of my neck.

When I was nine, I was a child. I loved to run, and my laugh could be heard for miles into the forest. the animals scurried to avoid thunder of my youth, and I could not be held in one spot for even a moment.

My skin was brown. My lips were full. I wanted to dance, and to play. I was so full of life that I could only sleep for a moment each night as my thoughts raced.

I am now fifteen, and I am myself. I don’t understand what anyone is saying. I can barely explain myself. I am cold, and I miss the thumping of my mother’s heart more than anything.

My skin is brown. My lips are dry. I want to cry, and to laugh, and I am so tired that my head cannot be held up by the feeble muscles of my neck.