I see myself standing in my own way, a shadow between who I am and who I could be. I try to break free from the weight of the past, but the hands—stained with blood— reach for me, pull me back, reminding me of every wound I swore I’d forget.

So I cut them off. One by one. Leaving them behind, where they belong. To the past.

I walk forward, unburdened, the ghosts of yesterday fading into silence. The scars remain, but they are mine to keep— not as shackles, but as proof that I survived.

Hand-drawn digital painting in procreate 6000*8000 px DPI 132 February 2025