The Door Was Never Locked

The scream has faded, but the silence it left behind is heavier than the noise. You scan the room and see them all still standing, frozen in their own orbits, no one moving toward you.

In this deepest hour, the distance feels like a verdict—that you are alone in the dark. But the light does not always arrive as a rescue party rushing in from the outside.

Sometimes, it is the quiet realization that the door was never locked. Here I am.

I stand at the door and knock. The light is not waiting for you to be worthy of entry; it is waiting for you to stop holding the latch closed.

The isolation is real, but it is not the final truth. The one who is in you is greater than the stillness of the room.