Light Hidden in the Grain

The sun is up, but the house feels heavy with what wasn't said. You watched them smile at the coffee pot, a perfect performance designed to keep your morning light.

They are carrying a weight they think you cannot hold, so they hide the cracks to protect your peace. But the light does not need you to be strong for each other.

It only asks that you stop pretending the darkness isn't there. Split a piece of wood, and the light is in the grain.

Lift a stone, and you will find it underneath the silence. The truth you are both guarding is already known, already held, already waiting for you to bring it forth.

You do not have to carry the mask into this new day. The light sees the tear before it falls, and it calls you both by name.