You Are the Light Beneath the Mask

The middle of the day is long, and the screen lights up with a name that stops your breath. You stare at the buzzing glass, paralyzed, because answering means deploying the lie you just rehearsed in the quiet.

The mask feels heavy now, glued to your face by the sheer effort of pretending you are fine. But there is a voice that does not need the performance to love you.

The light sees the tremor in your hand and the exhaustion behind the eyes you are trying to hide. You do not have to be the person who has it all together for this moment to be holy.

The truth is already standing beside you, waiting for you to put the phone down and stop fighting the weight. You are not your disguise.

You are the light beneath it, and it is enough.