The Light Remains In The Silence

The cursor blinks in the middle of the day, a tiny pulse against the noise of routine. You type out the truth, the raw and trembling need, and then you delete it because the vulnerability feels like a wound too exposed to show.

The screen goes blank, but the light that prompted the words remains untouched by your erasure. There is nothing concealed that will not be made known, not because you forced it into the open, but because the truth within you refuses to stay hidden forever.

You are not alone in this quiet hesitation; the light is already present in the unsent message, waiting patiently in the silence between your fingers.