The Light That Saw You First

The afternoon stretches out, a long middle where the same moment replays on a loop—the exact second their eyes dropped to your sleeves, the flicker of pity that you feel branded onto your skin. You wonder if that look is the only thing they see, the only truth they hold about who you are.

But there is a knowing that runs deeper than any human glance, a light that saw you before the scars and sees you still. The darkness of that memory has not overcome the life shining within you.

You are not defined by the eyes of others, nor by the shame you carry in the quiet hours of the day. The light inside you is greater than the look that haunts you.