Light Ignores the Walls You Built

The sun is rising, and the light it brings does not ask permission to enter the room where you stand watching them sleep. It simply arrives, soft and golden, touching the wall you fear has become permanent.

You feel the silence between you like a physical barrier, a debt you owe for the quiet you created. But look closer at the light filling the space.

It does not stop at the edge of the bed. It does not respect the walls you have built.

It falls on their face just as it falls on yours, ignoring the distance you are measuring with your eyes. The dawn makes no distinction between the one who caused the silence and the one who endured it.

The light is already inside the room, waiting for you to stop guarding the door and simply stand in it.