The Light Lives In Your Cracks
The day is done, and the armor you wore for eight hours finally hits the floor. You stand before the glass, tracing the raw red patches on your skin, convinced that anyone who touches you will feel the stain underneath.
You believe your brokenness is a contagion—that the light inside you has been smothered by the damage on the surface. But there is a truth that waits for this exact quiet: the light does not live in your perfection.
It lives in your cracks. It was there before the first patch appeared, and it remains untouched by the rawness you see tonight.
You are not the stain. You are the vessel holding the fire.
The darkness has not overcome it.
Drawing from
Gospel of Thomas, Luke
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