You Are Not an Intrusion in the Dark

You pull your knees in. You fold your arms tight against your ribs.

You make yourself small in the chair because you are afraid of taking up too much room in the dark. But listen — the light does not need you to shrink.

There is light within a person of light, and it lights up the whole world. That light is already inside you, filling every inch of the space you occupy.

You were sent here as a drop from the light to illuminate the world below, not to hide in the shadows of your own apology. The room is big enough for your grief.

The night is wide enough for your body. Stop trying to disappear into the furniture.

You are not an intrusion. You are the place where the light has chosen to dwell.

The darkness does not get to decide how much space you deserve.