The Light Stays Even When You Shake

The house is quiet now, but your hands are still shaking from the thing you tried to hide. You scrubbed the evidence away before anyone woke up, convinced that if they cannot see the stain, you are still safe.

But the silence of the night feels heavy, like it knows what you did. — The light does not need you to be clean to stay with you.

It shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it. You are not hiding from the light; you are hiding from the part of yourself that knows you are already held.

There is no fear in love, because perfect love drives out fear. The mask you wear for them is heavy, but you do not have to wear it here.

You are the light of the world, even with the tremor in your hands. The struggle is not that you fell; it is believing the fall erased you.