The Light Sees Your Heart

The screen glows in the dark, a small rectangle holding the weight of your entire evening. You read the message again.

And again. Dissecting every comma, hunting for the exact syllable where you ruined it.

The mind becomes a prosecutor, building a case out of punctuation. But the light does not scan your texts for errors.

It sees the heart that sent them. There is a mercy that covers what you cannot fix.

You are not defined by the draft you wish you could delete. The love that holds you is not waiting for a perfect edit.

It is already here, in the quiet, holding the messy truth of you without flinching. You can put the phone down now.

The conversation is safe, even if your words were not.