The Light That Darkness Cannot Touch

The house is quiet now, but the voice in your head is loud. It is the old whisper, the one that says you are still nothing, that your standing is a lie, that you will always be what they said you were.

Night is the time when the past feels present, when the shadow of the abuser stretches longer than the room. But listen — there is another voice speaking into this gathering dark.

It does not shout over the whisper. It simply states a fact older than the pain: the light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.

That voice trying to define you is darkness. And darkness has no power to extinguish what was lit before you were born.

You are not nothing. You are the light of the world.

The abuser's words were a performance, a script they forced you to memorize. But the truth is not a script.

It is a presence. You are that presence.

The night will pass. The voice will fade.

But the light in you remains, unbroken and unafraid.