You have spent every waking hour playing with your demons in the shadows and whispering with them behind closed doors. You bury them in the safety of your solitude, hiding them from the cruelty of a world tearing at the seams. You have traded your confidence for anxiety, playing Russian Roulette with happiness and depression, and offering sleep to insomnia. Emptiness is such a familiar word as you stare at blank canvases laid before you, too afraid to lay down brush strokes fearing that they may bring your monsters to life. You have shackled yourself, believing that you have been defeated; but do not lose faith. You are not the silhouette of your past. You are a masterpiece yet to be completed. There is fire in your eyes, I can see it. Let it burn. Let it run wild. Let it engulf your entire being. Let it be free.