The Light Sees Your Exhaustion Behind The Mask

The day ends, and the glass turns into a mirror. You catch your own reflection staring back while someone else's voice fills the room, and for a second, you do not recognize the face looking out.

It looks tired. It looks like a mask you have worn so long it has started to fuse with the skin.

You are nodding, you are smiling, but inside you are screaming for the performance to stop. The light does not need you to keep acting.

It sees the exhaustion behind the eyes. It sees the part of you that is ready to put the armor down.

There is a quiet space waiting for you where you do not have to pretend to be whole. You can stop holding yourself together.

The light is not asking for your presentation. It is asking for your presence.