The Light Loves What Is Human

The house is quiet now, and the mask you wore all day has finally slipped. In this deepest hour, the terror rises: if they see how tired you really are, they will know you are a fraud and leave.

But the light does not require your performance to stay. It knows the weight you carry even when your hands are empty.

There is a rest that does not depend on your ability to hold everything together. The darkness has not overcome it.

You do not have to prove your worth to be held. The light is already here, sitting with you in the silence.

It sees the exhaustion and calls it honest, not shameful. You are not a fraud because you are tired.

You are human because you are tired. And the light loves what is human.