Silence Is Where the Light Breathes

The afternoon hums with the noise of other people's certainty. You watch them speak a language of faith that feels foreign on your tongue, and you feel like a fraud standing there, empty-handed.

You think you have lost the words, but the light does not need your vocabulary to remain inside you. There is a silence deeper than any prayer you could force.

The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it. You are not failing because you are quiet; you are simply resting in a truth that holds you even when you cannot speak.

The real fraud is not the silence—it is the performance you think you owe. Your inability to speak is not an absence; it is the space where the light breathes for you.