Light Hiding Beneath the Mask

The afternoon demands a performance you do not feel. You shake their hand. You say the words. You force the smile while your stomach knots with the weight of what was taken. But the light does not live in the mask you wear for the crowd. It lives in the truth you are hiding.

Split a piece of wood, and the light is there. Lift up the stone of your betrayal, and you will find it there too.

The light is not surprised by your anger. It is waiting underneath the performance. It knows the cost of the lie you just told. And it knows the ache of the thing you lost.

You do not have to keep the knot tied forever. The truth you are swallowing is the very thing that can set you free.