The Light Lives in Your Broken Places

The morning sun is up, and so is the mask. You put it on before your feet hit the floor because it is easier than explaining the cracks.

You walk through the day smiling, nodding, performing okayness while inside you are convinced that if anyone ever saw the real you, they would see only wreckage. You believe the truth of you is a disaster that must be hidden.

But the light does not need a polished surface to shine through. It lives in the broken places you try to cover up.

There is a voice that knows every hidden thing, and it does not turn away when it sees the mess. It sees the wreckage and calls it home.

The terror says: if they look closely, they will leave. The truth says: if they look closely, they will finally see you.