The Light Matches Your Breathing

The house is quiet now, and you are holding your breath to keep the peace. You lie perfectly still, terrified that the sound of your own lungs will betray the fact that you are awake and hurting.

You think your heaviness is a burden they cannot carry. But the light does not need you to be silent to love you.

It is not waiting for you to perform rest. It is right here in the dark, closer than the sheets, listening not to judge your rhythm but to match it.

You do not have to hide the noise of your survival from the one who calls you friend. The exhale you are fighting to suppress is the very thing that proves you are still here, still living, still held.

Stop pretending to be asleep for the sake of the light that never sleeps anyway.