I break within myself, but I believe that one day freedom will come, because these very cracks have become pathways for the light to pass through.** Every line that has run down from my forehead to my lips is a passage for a breath that had been trapped in the silence of years. I see beyond—to a plain where running without the fear of falling has meaning. My lips are sealed, but not out of fear. Out of patience. Out of that wisdom which knows that a scream, sometimes, is louder in silence. The collapse of the old mask is the birth of a face that no longer fears any chains. Breaking is not an end. It is the beginning of a path that leads to freedom. Hand drawn with charcoal on cardboard