The Dawn Does Not Wait for You

The sun is up, and with it comes the old terror: if you finally stop holding the mask in place, there will be nothing underneath worth seeing. You have spent the night bracing for this moment, convinced that your true face is empty.

But look at the birds outside your window—they do not perform to earn the morning. They simply are.

And the light finds them enough. The dawn does not wait for you to be impressive before it touches your skin.

It arrives anyway. It is already spilling across your floor, not because you earned it, but because the sun cannot help but shine.

You are not a hollow space waiting to be filled. You are a vessel that was never empty to begin with.

The light was there before you woke up, and it is there now, waiting for you to let the mask fall.