The Light Holds Your Tired Face

The mask is heavy this afternoon, isn't it? You smiled when they needed you to smile, you nodded when they needed you to nod, and now the jaw stays clenched hours after the last forced laugh.

It is the long middle of the day, where the performance feels endless and the silence inside your own head is the loudest thing in the room. But the light does not need your face to be relaxed to live inside you.

It does not wait for the act to be over. It is already there, beneath the tension, beneath the ache, holding the very bones of your fatigue.

You do not have to unclench to be held. The light knows the weight of the smile you just wore, and it loves the tired face underneath it just as much.