The Light Is Not In The Archive
The screen glows bright enough to hide the tired eyes behind it. You scroll back through words written when the light felt easier to wear, hunting for proof that you were once enough.
The pixels shift, but the memory of that person fades faster than the battery drains. You close the app before the ache can settle in, before the gap between then and now becomes too wide to cross.
But the light does not live in the archive. It is not a record of who you were when you felt whole.
It is the breath in your lungs right now, behind the smile you are fixing for the world. The mask is heavy, yes, but the face beneath it is already known.
Drawing from
John, Matthew
Verses
John 1:14, Matthew 6:22
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