The Light Walking Beside You

The house is quiet now, but your hands still remember the weight of holding them up all day. You are the only wall between the storm and the sleep they need.

It feels like walking on water when the wind is high—like you might sink if you look down at the bills, the loneliness, the sheer size of tomorrow. But listen: the light is not asking you to walk alone.

It is walking beside you, right here in the dark, keeping you from going under. There is a light within you that the exhaustion cannot put out.

It was there before the first cry, and it will be there when the sun rises. You are not just surviving this watch.

You are the lamp that keeps the darkness from winning.