You Do Not Have to Generate the Dawn

The mirror asks for a performance before the sun is even up. You pull the corners of your mouth into a shape that says 'I slept fine,' hiding the night that actually happened behind your eyes.

But the light does not need your mask to find you. It was already there in the room while you were awake, and it is here now, waiting behind the smile you feel forced to wear.

There is light within a person of light, and it lights up the whole world—even the parts you are trying to hide. You do not have to generate the dawn; you only have to stop pretending you aren't part of it.

The smile you force is heavy, but the light underneath it is weightless. Go out the door not because you are fixed, but because you are carried.