You Are the Lamp Behind the Glass

The house is quiet now, and the glass has turned into a mirror. You catch your own reflection in the dark window, and for a heartbeat, the eyes staring back feel like a stranger's.

You wonder who has been living inside your skin while you weren't looking. But the darkness has not overcome the light that lives there.

It cannot. That same light was present before the fatigue set in, and it remains now, unchanged by the hours you've lost.

You did not lose yourself tonight; you simply forgot to see the glow that has always been humming beneath the surface. The face in the glass is yours because the light inside it is yours.

You are not the shadow on the pane; you are the lamp burning behind it.