The Truth You Buried Is Held
The house is quiet, and the sentence forms in your throat—perfect, terrible, necessary. You rehearse it in the dark until the floorboards creak, until a breath shifts in the room beside you.
And instantly, you swallow it whole. The words dissolve back into silence, leaving a bitter taste of cowardice.
But listen—the light that lives inside you saw the sentence before you spoke it. It knows the shape of the truth you carried and the weight of the fear that made you hide it.
What you buried in the dark is not lost; it is held. You do not have to be brave enough to speak tonight to be loved enough to exist.
Drawing from
Gospel of Thomas 3, John 8:10-11
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