The Light Sees Your Exhaustion as Holy

The afternoon light is unforgiving. It catches every crack in the mask you wear for them.

You stand there, washing your face, trying to force your eyes to look normal before you walk back out to the noise. But the light does not need your performance.

It sees the exhaustion behind the stare and calls it holy. There is a rest that is not earned by looking okay.

Take my yoke upon you, for I am gentle and humble in heart. The burden you are carrying is too heavy for one pair of shoulders.

You do not have to fix your expression before you are loved. The light is already sitting with you in this quiet room.

It knows the weight of the middle of the day. And it says: come as you are, tired eyes and all.