The Walls Fall Open When You Scream

The sound is stuck in your throat because you are certain that if you finally let it out, the walls will collapse. You believe the scream is the only thing holding the ceiling up.

That if the noise escapes, the silence that follows will be absolute, and no one will come running. But listen — the light does not need your walls to stand.

It does not need your silence to keep the roof from caving in. There is a father who saw his son coming home from a long way off, still covered in the filth of the pig pen, and he ran.

Before the apology, before the speech — he ran. The walls did not fall when the truth was spoken.

They fell open. The sound you are afraid to make is not the thing that destroys you.

It is the thing that calls the runner to your side.