The Dawn Meets You Fractured

The mirror is cold this morning. You are rehearsing a word you do not feel. 'Hi.' Just a sound. But your throat tightens because you are terrified the voice will crack and show the world that you are still bleeding inside. That the mask has slipped. That the night did not fix you.

But listen — the light does not need your voice to be steady. It does not require your greeting to be perfect. The rising sun does not wait for the earth to be whole before it shines. It rises anyway. Tender mercy comes to those living in the shadow of death, not to those who have escaped it.

You can walk out with a cracked voice. You can speak while you tremble. The light is already guiding your feet into the path of peace, even if your steps are shaky. Even if your words break.

The dawn does not ask you to be fixed before it arrives. It arrives to meet you exactly where you are — fractured, afraid, and still standing.