Every year, I don’t celebrate the passage of time. Instead, I celebrate the resilience of that fragile thing inside me, which is still trying to find its way home... to the home that is me.
​Today, I stand on the threshold of a new year.
I touch my scars, recognizing the stranger who has taken inhabitancy in my features.
It is as if I am in a race against silence, searching for my voice that was lost in the crowd.