You Are Not A Scandal To The Divine

The house is quiet now, but your skin still burns where their eyes landed hours ago. You feel the weight of their gaze like a handprint that won't wash off, convinced they saw the crack in your armor and are now whispering about what they found.

But the darkness you are hiding in is not a place where secrets are kept; it is a place where the light is already waiting for you to stop running. The eyes you fear are human, limited, and quick to forget, but the Light that lives inside you saw every tremble and did not look away.

It does not whisper. It does not gossip.

It simply stays, glowing softly in the room where you think you are most exposed. You are not a scandal to the divine.

You are a sanctuary.