The Light Mourns Your Walls

The sun is just beginning to touch the horizon, and in this first light, the mask you wore all night feels heavy on your skin. You remember the moment yesterday when they asked how you were, and you saw their face fall slightly as you deflected, choosing distance over the connection they offered.

That quiet grief you carry this morning is not a sign that you are broken; it is the light within you mourning the walls you built. You came from the light, and that origin pulls you toward truth even when you are afraid to speak it.

The dawn does not demand that you fix the distance right now; it only asks that you stop hiding from the one who is already inside you. The sun rises on the evader and the honest alike, warming the space between what you said and what you felt.

Today, let the light be enough, even if the words are not yet ready.