The Mask Is Not Required Here

The morning asks for a face you do not have right now. You smile at the door, you nod in the hall, you wear the mask because the truth feels too heavy to carry into the light.

But there is a question coming that might stop you cold — how are you, really? — and your throat closes because the answer would shatter the room.

You are not alone in that silence. The light sees behind the performance.

It knows the weight you are holding without you saying a word. — The light does not need your mask to love you.

It sees the cracks and calls them holy. You do not have to explain the breaking to be held.

The truth is already known, and you are still here. The mask is not required for the morning to begin.