The Light Fills Your Hollow Space

The afternoon sun is bright, and you are working hard to keep your shadows hidden. You fear that if someone really looked—if they saw past the performance to the hollow space inside—they would turn and walk away.

So you carry the mask, heavy and hot, pretending the emptiness isn't there. But listen: the light does not flee from the hollow.

It fills it. There is light within a person of light, and it lights up the whole world.

You are not a void waiting to be exposed; you are a vessel already full of something you cannot see. If you could bring forth what is within you, what you bring forth would save you.

The fear says they will leave if they know. The truth says they will stay because they finally see you.