The Light Sees Behind Your Mask

The morning asks for a face you do not have right now. You catch the tear before it falls, rubbing your cheek quickly, pretending it was just an itch so no one will know you were breaking.

You smooth your expression into something acceptable, something that says you are fine. But the light sees behind the mask you wear for the world.

It does not need your performance. It knows the weight you carry before you even lift it.

There is nothing concealed that will not be disclosed, and the hidden grief you are trying so hard to hide is already known, already held. You do not have to pretend to be whole to be loved.

The light is not fooled by the smile, but it is drawn to the sorrow beneath it. You are more than the face you show the office.