The Love Too Heavy To Speak
The house is quiet now, but your mind is loud with the words you swallowed. You are replaying the silence until it feels like a verdict: that you didn't love them enough to be honest.
That the unsaid thing proves you were a coward. But the light does not measure your love by the volume of your voice.
It measures it by the ache in your chest that kept you quiet. The bruised reed is not broken by its silence; it is held because it is bruised.
The light knows what you wanted to say before you knew it yourself. You are not defined by the words that died in your throat.
You are defined by the love that was too heavy to speak.
Drawing from
Matthew 12:20, John 21:15-17
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