The Light Is Already In The Passenger Seat

The car hums past the same corner again, and you tell yourself you just aren't ready to turn in. The fuel light blinks on, a quiet orange pulse against the dashboard of your performance.

You are driving a heavy machine made of pretend okayness, smiling at the world while the tank runs dry inside. But the light does not require your engine to be full before it enters.

It slips through the gap in the mask you wear for the morning commute. You think you need more time, more strength, more fuel to face what waits in that building.

The truth is simpler — and harder. The light is already sitting in the passenger seat, waiting for you to stop pretending you are driving alone.

You don't have to be ready to be held.