Step inside. The hands that once crushed me? They left fingerprints I turned into maps.
I crawled out of that room—skin raw, voice gone, heart still thudding like it had something to prove.
The floor was cold, the air tasted like rust, but I kept moving. One foot. Then another.
Until the door cracked open and light spilled in—weak at first, then blinding.
I didn’t come back whole. I came back rewritten.
Now every scar sings its own quiet anthem.
The dark still lingers, sure—but it doesn’t own me anymore.
It just watches. And waits.
Because even shadows know when they’ve lost
Let’s become the light 