We lose everything, our faces, our dreams, and the pieces of ourselves we can never get back. Time leaves its marks on us, pain takes something away, and sometimes we change so much that we no longer recognize who we are. But among all that has been destroyed, something refuses to surrender. Something that takes shape once more from the depths of darkness, carrying scars in place of memories and colors in place of screams. Perhaps being alive was never about remaining unbroken. Perhaps it means that despite everything that has shattered you, there is still something within you that refuses to go silent. We may never remain the people we once were. But sometimes, it is from the ruins of ourselves that we are born again. And that is what it means to still be alive.