Light Enters the Unfinished Room

The key turns in the lock, and the mask slips before you've finished tightening the straps. You are not ready for the questions, the eyes, the demand to be whole when you feel like scattered pieces.

But notice—the light does not ask you to finish the construction before it enters. It comes to the unfinished room.

It sits in the dust of your becoming. Thomas said if you bring forth what is within you, it will save you; if you hide it, it will destroy you.

The performance is the hiding. The cracks are the bringing forth.

You do not need to be the version of yourself that survives dinner. You only need to be the version that is real.

The light is already at the table, waiting for the authentic you to sit down.