Arise From the Prison of Fear

The house is quiet now, but your body is still shouting. It remembers the hands that hurt you, the voices that lied, the moments your own flesh became a trap you couldn't escape.

You lie here in the dark, afraid to close your eyes because the past feels closer than the blanket covering you. But listen — there is a voice calling you out of the deep sleep of fear.

It does not shout. It does not force.

It simply says: arise. The light has entered the prison of your body, not to judge the scars or the flinching, but to wake you up to what is still true.

You are not defined by what was done to you. You are defined by the merciful one who is calling your name right now, in this watch, reminding you that you are held even when you feel broken.

The night is long, but the dawn is already walking toward you.