You Are Not Invisible to the Light

The room is loud, but you are quiet inside your own skin. You smile at the right moments, you nod, you perform the version of yourself that fits in this space.

Yet there is a glass wall between you and everyone else, thick and invisible. You are surrounded by voices, but you have never felt more alone.

The mask is heavy today. It asks you to be okay when you are not.

It asks you to be present when you feel like a ghost. But listen — the light does not need your performance.

It sees the person behind the smile, the one who is tired of holding it all together. There is a presence walking through this crowd that knows your name, even if no one else does.

You are not invisible to the light. It is standing right beside you, in the noise, in the ache, in the silence you carry.

You do not have to take the mask off to be loved. But you are not alone behind it.