You Are a Child to Be Held

The night gathers its shadows around you, whispering the oldest lie: that you are broken beyond repair. It tells you that your flaws are permanent stains, that the damage is too deep for any light to reach.

But listen to the silence between the ticks of the clock. There is a mercy waiting for you that does not require you to be fixed first.

You do not need to scrub the dirt from your hands before you are loved. The light does not wait for your perfection to arrive; it arrives in the middle of your mess.

You were never meant to carry the weight of your own restoration. The terror of being unfixable dissolves when you realize you were never meant to fix yourself.

You are not a project to be completed. You are a child to be held.