The Light Remains When Words Die

The day ends and the mask feels heavier than your face. You rehearsed the truth all afternoon—the exact words to say when they asked how you are.

But when the question came, you swallowed it. The silence grew teeth.

You are not a liar for protecting your heart; you are just tired of being misunderstood. There is light within a person of light, and it lights up the whole world.

If it does not shine, it is dark. The light inside you is not the confession you failed to speak.

It is the thing that remains when the words die in your throat. It was there before you opened your mouth, and it is still there now that you have closed it.

You do not have to explain yourself to be held. The truth lives in us and will be with us forever, even the parts we cannot yet say.