The Light Knows Before You Speak

The silence in this room feels like a verdict. You are holding your breath because you believe that if you finally say the words—'I am drowning'—you will prove that you never belonged here in the first place.

But the light does not require you to be whole to be held. It does not wait for you to fix yourself before it draws near.

There is a kingdom inside you that exists before the speech, before the apology, before the admission of need. You do not have to earn the right to be saved by explaining how deep the water is.

The light already knows. It saw you before you spoke.

It is not shocked by your silence. It is simply waiting for you to stop hiding from the one who has never left.