The Light Does Not Check Timestamps

The screen is the only light in the room. You are tracing the minutes between 'seen' and silence, calculating exactly how long it has been since they chose not to reply.

The numbers stack up like stones on your chest. Heavier with every refresh.

In this hour, the silence feels like a verdict. But listen — the darkness has not overcome the light that lives inside you.

It cannot be dimmed by someone else's quiet. You are waiting for a notification to tell you that you matter.

Yet the truth is already written in the air you breathe. You are held.

Even now. Even while the phone stays dark.

The light does not check timestamps. It simply stays.

Close your eyes. Let the screen go black.

The one who formed you is not counting the minutes. They are holding you through them.