Stop Performing to Be Held

The day is done, but the trial in your head has just begun. You rehearse the apology, word by perfect word, while your mouth forms polite lies to the people in the room.

You are tired of carrying the weight of what you did not say. The darkness has not overcome the light that lives inside you.

It simply waits for you to stop performing. There was a woman caught in the act, surrounded by accusers ready to throw stones.

The light did not join the circle. It bent down and wrote in the dust, waiting for the noise to stop.

When the silence finally came, it spoke: neither do I condemn you. The truth is not something you must manufacture before you are worthy of love.

The light is already there, beneath the script you are reading from. You do not have to finish the speech to be held.