On the eve of August 4
My socials are flooded with images of an explosion we have yet to understand; a destruction so violent, the ripples are still in full effect....
More destruction in the south; people who lost everything and can't go back...
And next to me, in my care, a hundred child from Artsakh who have lost almost everything, even if they are not fully aware...
A destruction so violent, the ripples are still felt...
I tried to get them to express, anything, anything that they might feel, created a safe space, yet...
We laugh, we run, we play, we pray, we draw, we paint, we act, we try to dance... Maybe it is enough...
Others want us to cry, we will, on our own terms...
Others want us to die... Not when we have each other?
Where it hurts
You keep it inside
And your quiet soars
A silent cry
Oblivious to the unfamiliar
You fear what you hide
But your sorrow pours
All over my
Need to make it better, that's my pillar
You think it is pride
A victim of wars
Why don't we try
To collect our grief and reconfigure
Step by step
You, me, we do it together
Let me help
Bring out what lies in the nether
Step by step
We can transform it together
No misstep
Heavy plight, light as a feather





