The Light Waits in Your Tears

The water is loud so the house stays quiet. You cry where no one can see, believing your grief must be hidden to keep them safe.

But the light does not need your silence. It does not ask you to wash away the tears before it comes near.

There is a voice that knows the sound of your weeping better than you know it yourself. It is not shocked by the noise.

It is not disappointed by the breaking. The darkness has not overcome it.

The light is already in the water, already in the ache, already holding you together when you feel you are falling apart. You do not have to be strong for the light to stay.

It waits in the steam. It waits in the shaking.

It waits until you know that even the hidden parts are loved.