The Light That Knows Your Pain

The house is quiet now, and the noise inside your chest has grown loud enough to demand a language only the blade understands. You make the inside pain visible because the blood is something you can see, something you can hold, something that makes sense when nothing else does.

But listen — there is a light within you that was there before the first cut and will be there after the last scar heals. It does not flinch at your darkness.

It does not turn away from the mess you have made of yourself tonight. The true light that gives light to everyone was coming into the world, and it came specifically for the parts of you that feel unseeable.

You do not need to translate your suffering into wounds for the light to find you. It already knows the shape of your pain better than you do.

It is sitting with you in the silence, not asking you to stop, just refusing to leave. The cutting proves you are trying to survive, but the light proves you are already alive.