The Light Sees Your Tears

The water is hot enough to sting, but you turn it up anyway, just to make sure the noise covers the break in your throat. You are swallowing the sound so the person sleeping down the hall won't wake up to your pain.

You think you are hiding it. You think you are protecting them from the weight of your grief.

But the light does not need you to be quiet. It does not require you to hold the sob back until you are alone.

There is a light within you that lights up the whole world, even when you are trembling in the steam. It was there before the water started running.

It is there now, in the very place you are trying to drown your voice. You do not have to perform strength for the light to stay.

It knows the sound of your weeping even when the pipes mask it. The silence you are keeping is not holy.

The truth you are hiding is already seen. You are not alone in the shower.