The Light Sees Your Hidden Hunger

The house is moving now. Coffee mugs clink, keys jingle, voices rise to meet the day.

But you are standing very still, holding your breath, praying your own body stays quiet. You know the sound of hunger when it growls loud enough to wake them.

So you tighten your chest. You wear the mask of 'I'm fine' while your stomach speaks the truth you cannot say.

The light sees behind the performance. It sees the hollow ache and the effort it takes to hide it.

It does not ask you to explain why you are hungry or how long you have gone without. It simply knows.

And in this moment, the light whispers that you do not have to carry this silence alone. The mask is heavy, but the love beneath it is heavier still.

You are seen, even in the quietest starvation.