You Are the Silence Underneath

The house is quiet now, but your mind is loud with the replay. You are stuck on the pause, the stumble, the quiet 'um' that you are convinced proved you are falling apart.

You are building a case against yourself in the dark, convinced that a broken sentence means a broken life. But the light does not listen the way your shame does.

It does not grade your performance or catalog your stutters. There is light within a person of light, and it lights up the whole world—even the parts where you stumbled.

You came from the light, the place where the light came into being on its own accord, long before that conversation ever started. The silence you fear is not evidence of your failure; it is simply the space where the light is waiting for you to stop speaking and start remembering.

You are not the stutter. You are the silence underneath it.