A portrait of inner torment entangled in silence. Flesh cracks, wires tighten — not from the outside, but from the self-imposed limits of thought, guilt, and fear. This is not pain from the world, but the prison of one’s own making. A mind wrapped in its own resistance, begging to break free — yet afraid of freedom.
Each wire is a belief.
Each tear, a truth waiting to be faced.
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Rodeyo
